#I am twenty years late to the party yes I know | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

theoldsports · 5 months

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married.

Coriolanus Snow x reader | 5.5k words

alcohol makes consent messy, substance abuse, manipulation, arranged marriage, public humiliation, two-way abusive relationship <3

Coriolanus may well replace Lupin as my favorite guy to write for. he’s fucked up. i can’t fix him, but i could certainly make him worse.

As quietly as possible, [Y/N] closed the door to Coriolanus’s lavish new apartment behind her. She didn’t particularly want him to know that she had left the apartment in the first place. There were always too many questions.

[Y/N] had recently moved in with Coriolanus since their engagement. Her parents had arranged their marriage with his grandmother, affectionately called the Grandma’am not long before she passed. Coriolanus was about the most desirable bachelor in the Capitol. Not only was he an excessively handsome twenty-three year old, but he was also growing increasingly wealthy and had recently received his first assignment as a Gamemaker working on creating a new arena structure for the Hunger Games. Everyone who was anyone in polite society knew of Coriolanus Snow.

And [Y/N] hated him with everything she had. She had to see his defiant smirk in school every day for years since they were twelve or so. She hid from him every chance she got at home. [Y/N] slept in another room away from him. The only advantage of their marriage were the politics and name recognition for the both of them.

“I didn’t realize you were going out.” Coriolanus said flatly, snapping [Y/N] from her thoughts. She hadn’t even realized he had been in the apartment’s common area. He was sitting calmly in an putrid-looking armchair, alarmingly still.

[Y/N] gasped and clutched her chest in surprise. “Is there a problem with my leaving?” She said quickly.

“No problem.”

[Y/N] looked at him curiously. “Okay.” She said and moved passed him to her bedroom.

After a moment of pause, Coriolanus appeared in her doorway. He leaned against her doorframe with a hand in his pocket. “Where were you, by the way?” He asked plainly.

“I don’t see how that’s your business.”

“It was beginning to get late. Our engagement party’s in two hours. I cannot very well attend an engagement event without my fiancée. So. Where were you?”

“Dry cleaner’s.”

Coriolanus let out a scoff. [Y/N] could see him get hot under the collar. “You expect me to believe you were—Where’s the laundry?” Coriolanus questioned.

[Y/N] reached into her coat pocket for the stub of her laundry receipt. “Dropping off, not picking up. You’re on Lucky Flickerman’s next week. Dropping off my dress ahead of time. Anything left you would like to accuse me of?” [Y/N] sighed, leaned against her desk chair.

“Do not speak to me like that,” Coriolanus begun, sighing. It was obvious that he felt undue humiliation from her response. “It’s childish and unbecoming.”

“So is your being a hypocrite.” [Y/N] snapped back instantly.

The pair fought daily. Never had Snow laid a hand on her, but it wouldn’t be surprising if he did one day. [Y/N] didn’t recall any particular fights he had been involved in at the Academy, but it doesn’t mean they didn’t happen.

“Stop acting like a child!” Coriolanus repeated. “Are we not allowed one remotely pleasant moment together? You know I don’t want this just as much as you, but here we are. Can’t we be civil?”

“I am capable of civility, yes. You, on the other hand…”

“You’re disgusting. You don’t know how to listen. It blows me away. I asked you a simple question that a married couple should ask the other when one is gone. Now you’re screaming at me like a little girl. Grow up.”

“Grow up? You wanna talk about childish; you’re selfish, demanding, and cold. I’m scared to death of you. You make me feel like a toy, not a person, Coriolanus. I was always pretty fucking certain children had toys, not grownups.”

“Good gracious… Fine! Be that way. Cause a fucking scene!” Coriolanus screamed. His temper flared. He got that look in his eye that only men can get when they lose something they wanted. “My coat and tie are black. I’m assuming you’re not intending to clash or something, so just letting you know. Y’know. Communication. The polite thing to do.” He reported and stormed out of her room to his own. Her door slammed so hard behind him that she feared in may splinter off its hinges. What must the neighbors think of them?

[Y/N] resisted the urge to shout for Coriolanus to drop dead.

She was left to ready herself alone. As she pulled out her dress (that wouldn’t look foul against Coriolanus’s coat and tie) from the closet, she caught a glimpse of the engagement ring on her finger. White gold with a moderately sized ruby set in the middle. She was told both the gold and the stone were real, but she had her doubts to some extent. She found it was difficult to believe anything Coriolanus said. The ring made it clear that Coriolanus didn’t truly know [Y/N] because she had always worn silver jewelry. She felt isolated from all her prior jewelry pieces as now, none of them matched.

Then, [Y/N] stepped into her dress. A flowing black ballgown with a full petticoat and a glittery exterior over the fine satin it was made from. She couldn’t quite complete the buttons running up the dress’s back. She sat down at a small vanity Coriolanus had purchased her to do her hair and makeup. She assumed he would be hard pressed by the fact she couldn’t button the back of her own ballgown; that she was incapable or needy.

After dragging kohl and shadows over her eyelids, among other things, she set out to find the correct pair of shoes to match the dress.

The problem with dressing to match Coriolanus is that he was excessively tall. This meant every dress had to be accompanied by the tallest heels one could find. [Y/N]’s ankles ached just thinking about a night in shoes like that again. With her makeup done and her dress unbuttoned down the back, [Y/N] set out to find the red heels Coriolanus had purchased for her. She sat unceremoniously on the floor with her large skirt fluffed out around her to dig in her closet for the shoes.

Coriolanus was fastening his white gold and ruby cufflinks that matched [Y/N]’s engagement ring when he knocked at her door.

“Yes, what?” She shouted from the floor.

Coriolanus pulled the door open without asking if she was decent. “I was going to ask if you were ready, but I can see that you aren’t.” He sighed. Coriolanus never apologized after a fight, instead he tried to placate in whatever way possible. He was incapable of an apology, [Y/N] thought. Whether it was buying her something, taking her out, helping her find something she had lost, that’s what he would do to ease his own guilt. If he could feel guilt.

[Y/N] sighed as well. She was unwilling to engage in verbal sparring with him now. She lowered her head in a visual show of defeat. “I can’t find my other shoe,” She said weakly. “The red ones you got me.”

“The red heels?” He asked quietly. Coriolanus perceived she was not much in the mood for his attitude, and felt his residual anger cool off several degrees.

[Y/N] nodded hopelessly. She didn’t want to go to the engagement party. She didn’t want to be marrying Coriolanus under terms such as these. [Y/N] felt like property and everything hurt.

“Let me look,” Coriolanus said. What he meant to say was ‘I’m sorry for everything,’ but what he said was: “I’ll help you look. Don’t wrinkle your dress, alright?”

[Y/N] stood up awkwardly, holding the falling bodice of her dress up. She felt uncomfortable being so vulnerable in front of him like this. “Sorry, I couldn’t button the back.” She said. With her free hand, she reached around the back of the dress in an attempt to close it.

“Don’t apologize. I’ll get it. Turn,” Coriolanus commanded plainly. [Y/N] did as he said. He notched the buttons down her back with ease. “You should’ve called for help. I didn’t realize you were struggling.” He said. He patted her shoulder to signify he was done with the back of her dress. Coriolanus moved in front of her closet and bent down to find the missing left red shoe.

It was silent for a moment. “Of course you weren’t aware I was struggling.”

Coriolanus offered no reply. He understood what she meant.

“Aha!” He said after a few moments, holding up a matching set of shoes. Coriolanus placed them on the floor in front of her so she could step into them. He offered [Y/N] a hand for stability as she did so.

“Thank you,” she said. “Hey, Coriolanus?”

“Hm?”

“Are you nervous?”

“No,” he replied, standing up from the carpeted floor. “Are you?” Coriolanus’s blue eyes were piercingly inquisitive. Eyes that didn’t want to know you, but to consume you.

“Yes.”

“Really? Why?” Coriolanus asked. It didn’t feel rude or hot-tempered. It was merely a plain question. It made [Y/N] feel safe to answer, even though she remained guarded.

“I’m presenting myself as the soon-to-be wife of the most important thirty-under-thirty in the Capitol in an arranged marriage. And you hate me. You have hated me since we were children. My life is over, Coriolanus. This is for you and for my family’s honor, evidently. What do I have left?”

“You think I hate you?” Coriolanus asked, bending his neck to look at [Y/N]. “I don’t hate you.” [Y/N] wasn’t sure how truthful the statement was.

“Well, at least, you don’t like me.”

Curiously, Coriolanus placed a hand on her neck and dragged his thumb across [Y/N]’s jawline. “That’s such shit, [Y/N]. I didn’t realize you thought that of me. That you… Felt that way at all,” he started carefully. “Rather, and this sounds silly, I enjoy arguing with you. I sort of thought you did as well. You’re ruthless, I admire that,” He smirked and paused for a breath. “I do like you. Believe it, or not. I’ll just have to figure out a way to show you better,” Coriolanus’ hand slid from [Y/N]’s throat, down her side and back to eventually rest at her waist. She blinked up at him, surprised at the luxury of such unexpected contact from him. “Your life is not over. You wanna work, work. You want to not work, stay home. Please, allow me to do what I can for you. I can open doors. Whatever you want, name it. Things, opportunity,” [Y/N] nodded at the word ‘opportunity.’ “You’re meant to be my wife and I’m… really, I’m one of the best resources there is around here. Let me use that advantage. Had I known sooner, I wouldn’t have wasted all that time and money buying you things you hate.” He attempted a casual joke, holding her too close to him.

They were closer physically than they had ever been. Due to their proximity, [Y/N] had to rest her hands on Coriolanus’ chest as she stared up at him. She didn’t know what to say, so she nodded and straightened the red rose at his lapel. “You just might get yourself that unified front with me if you bring home your work…”

“You’re interested in Gamemaking? Since when?”

[Y/N] rolled her eyes. “We’re going to be late. We can speak about this later.”

“By all means.” Coriolanus leaned down awkwardly and kissed her. Maybe it was out of duty, maybe out of desire. Neither of them knew. They had shared the occasional peck on the lips for social reasons before, but this felt a bit different. It was charged somehow. A promise.

When they separated, [Y/N] stared at Coriolanus. He was all eyes - blue, blue, blue. He blinked at her. She blinked back. “Come on, we’ll be late to our own party.”

—

The whole ride to the event venue, Coriolanus had kept his hand on [Y/N]’s thigh. This was an unusual gesture. Normally, he didn’t chance touching her, even by accident. It was an unspoken agreement to keep their distance.

“I’m gonna be sick.” [Y/N] groaned into her palm as she exited the vehicle, led by Coriolanus toward the door of the event hall. The building had been destroyed when they were children in the war and had been recently restored to its former glory.

“Same thing as earlier, or did you decide I’m the worst person on earth?”

“Same as before. Haven’t decided about the second thing. My parents are going to be here too. You remember them?”

“Yes. I’ve met them… Twice, I believe—”

“Tread carefully.” [Y/N] said, offering no additional support.

Coriolanus nodded in solemn understanding. His eyebrows knitted together, knowing one more nasty, exhausting troublespot would be in his way tonight. He hated social gatherings as much as [Y/N]. With all the gentleness he could muster, Coriolanus took her hand. “Heading inside… Unified front?”

“If I must.” [Y/N] said.

With that, the night took off. Bright flashing cameras reflected off the black and white marble of the building, and applause rang off the large, cavernous walls. Everyone was shaking their hands, greeting and congratulating them, and stopping them for overly pictures at every turn. For a moment, [Y/N] truly believed that everything in her life was perfect, because everyone around her seemed to assume that it was. It made the pill of her future easier to swallow.

Coriolanus led her around the room with ease. He introduced her to many individuals whose names she would not remember tomorrow. She was beginning to develop a stunning routine of artifice with him as Coriolanus puppeted her around the room. Each interaction functioned with a greeting from Coriolanus to the stranger, he would remove his arm from [Y/N]’s waist and drag it down her arm into her hand in order for her to showcase her striking gown. Then he would say “isn’t my fiancée beautiful?” or “isn’t she just divine?” or “what a lucky man am I?” [Y/N] would chuckle and compliment him back with “my Coriolanus, ever the charmer!” or “isn’t he just divine?” or “what a lucky woman am I?” accordingly. They would smile sickeningly and pretend they were in love, he would lean in and kiss [Y/N] on the cheek, and she laugh warmly at his ‘spontaneity’ and place a hand on his chest, or straighten his tie.

After that, they would move on to greet the next poor sucker and repeat the process.

Eventually, [Y/N] dragged Coriolanus off to the side so she could relax her artificial grin. “Sorry, I need a moment. My face hurts. And that last man and his wife, was that his wife? They stunk. They smelled so foul it is unreal.”

Coriolanus smirked. “Those were my next door neighbors growing up. Vile. They’re very heavy morphling users, if you couldn’t tell with the glazed over look and twitchy eyebrow.” Coriolanus mocked.

[Y/N] laughed, hard. “Oh, you’re terrible!” She jeered. “Damn, what I wouldn’t give for morphling tonight…”

“Don’t tell me you’re a junkie, now.” Coriolanus pressed.

“Junkie is such a strong word…”

“Well, since I can’t get you high out of your mind at the moment, best I can offer is posca. I can grab you a glass and you can hide from the onslaught for a moment.” Coriolanus offered.

“Please. A particularly stiff glass if you can swing it. Or whiskey!” [Y/N] said. She watched Coriolanus turn to leave for the bar. [Y/N] tucked herself in a corner behind a noble Corinthian column for a moment of peace. A few people came and went that she greeted with that 1000-watt fake smile of hers, but she was mostly left unbothered. [Y/N] caught sight of a clock and realized Coriolanus had been gone for several minutes longer than he should have. She excused herself from talking to some old woman that claimed to be some distant great aunt or something of Coriolanus’ and set off to locate him and her posca.

Cutting through the crowd, [Y/N] spotted tall Coriolanus over most everyone’s heads, holding two glasses of posca, and speaking to her parents.

Fuck.

Her parents.

[Y/N] rushed sharply towards Coriolanus. She stopped short of approaching. She wanted to listen in for a moment to what they might be saying. [Y/N] knew her parents were of the socially treacherous sort. She turned her back to them and stood, pretending she didn’t know they were there.

“…Hasn’t given you too much trouble.” She heard her mother laugh.

Coriolanus laughed uncomfortably back. “Ha, not too much, no,” He said. “She’s quite fiery, for lack of a better word, though. Tough. She’s a tough woman.”

“You’re a strong young man, Coriolanus. I’m sure you’ll find a way to put her in her place. You can’t have her compromise your image and all that, you know. She can just be so destructive.” Her father said.

[Y/N] felt her heart sink. The positive interactions she had with Coriolanus were slipping out of her mind by the second in overhearing the conversation.

“Ah, yes sir,” Coriolanus said. “We’ve got a whole lifetime for—“

[Y/N] turned around and stomped over to Coriolanus. “There you are!” She said, returning that winning smile to her lips. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you, dear,” [Y/N] the pet name coming from her mouth made her nauseous. She grasped Coriolanus’ arm firmly. “And you got me a drink? You really are a dear, aren’t you?” She smiled and turned to her parents. Coriolanus felt tense beside her; she could feel it in the muscles in his arm.

Both her mother and father embraced her lovingly. “Oh, [Y/N], you look beautiful as ever.” Her mother said.

“Thank you,” [Y/N] said flatly, not returning the compliment. “If you’ll excuse us, there was someone else I wanted Coriolanus to meet. We’ll be back around soon. Love you!” She muttered, pulling Coriolanus away from her parents.

“Give me that.” She said, as soon as they were out of earshot, taking the glass of posca from Coriolanus.

“They’re…” he started in reference to her parents.

“Dreadful. I know,” [Y/N] heart felt broken. She didn’t even have a chance with Coriolanus without their humiliating influence. She didn’t want to dive into rationalizing his overheard conversation. So she just morosely stared down at the floor.

“They’re cruel to you,” he remarked as [Y/N] drank. “They told me I should work on breaking your spirit.”

[Y/N] took a long drink from her glass. “Are you going to? Break my spirit, I mean.”

“Haven’t decided,” Coriolanus replied. “Is tonight terrible so far for you?”

“Absolutely and unendingly.”

“Shame, since it’s supposed to be for us,” Coriolanus frowned. “Here’s what we’ll do. Drink up and we’ll dance. You told me you liked to dance once. Still true?”

“Uh, yes. You remember that?” The truth was that Coriolanus forgot very little.

“Too much talking, not enough drinking.” He replied, reaching out to tip the stem of her posca glass up, forcing the drink towards her lips.

“You’re a dick.” [Y/N] snapped. Her voice echoed from the round glass at her mouth.

“Never heard that one before.” Coriolanus said sarcastically.

A total of five empty posca glasses were settled on a cocktail table between them after about forty-five minutes of chatter and drinking. Coriolanus seemed looser than before, but focused as ever. The third glass, and the last half of Coriolanus’ second, had sent [Y/N] over the edge into drunkness, however.

“Dance with me now?” [Y/N] slurred slightly.

Coriolanus held his hand out as an affirmative response. She took it and he led her towards the dance floor. “FYI, I’m going to lead. You’re falling apart.” He leaned in to whisper teasingly as they approached the shiny wooden floor.

“If you’re shit at this, I reserve the right to take over as lead.”

“You have zero faith in me,” Coriolanus said, grabbing her too firmly in a waltz hold. She placed her hand on his broad shoulder. “Don’t think, just follow. I’ve got you.” He said, staring at her. Blue, blue, blue eyes, completely unreadable. Coriolanus sloppily led her around the dance floor, keeping the spins to a minimum. Sober, he was probably a fairly decent dancer. [Y/N] was reflexively a fine dancer as well, but a bit sloppier than normal. The thing that was actually holding back her dancing abilities, were the damn red heels. Her feet ached and she didn’t think she would be able to keep up with much more than a waltz in them.

The next song began after only half the length she had expected from a waltz, [Y/N]. It was a brisk foxtrot; all reliant on footwork. As Coriolanus led her into the first sidestep, [Y/N] kicked off her heels without missing a step. She harshly kicked them aside, sliding them to the edge of the dance floor. [Y/N] found she felt tiny now in front of Coriolanus. His smirk doubled at the sight as well. “Better?”

“Much. How about you shrink six inches next time so I don’t have to grow six inches. Seems fair to me.”

Coriolanus laughed cordially. His laugh turned into a sigh when he noticed [Y/N]’s lack of reply. “Are you angry with me?” He was aware that she usually was angry with him, he was asking specifically she to the conversation with her parents.

“Yes, why?”

“Because you’re being extremely rude.” Coriolanus said sharply.

“And?”

“No reason, just making conversation.”

Coriolanus couldn’t figure out what [Y/N] was looking at over his shoulder, but he didn’t care enough to ask. “Wanna make it up to me?” [Y/N] asked. “Posca wasn’t enough.”

“I’ll consider it. The terms?” He replied, spinning her through a tempo change.

“I want to make my parents hurt. I don’t live under their roof anymore. She’s been staring at me since I took my shoes off. See? I’m embarrassing her. And you know how big you owe me.”

This gave Coriolanus pause. Really, he didn’t owe her anything worth a damn. She was as bad to him as he was to her. “Why?”

“You said you could grant me opportunity. Grant me the opportunity of making her feel a fool for making me marry you, Coriolanus. I’m drunk. This offer is only going to work right now.”

“What’s in it for me?”

“Blowjob.”

“I have an idea,” Coriolanus said immediately. [Y/N] grinned. His job was having wicked, awful ideas, so it was nice when he delivered. “Do you trust me?”

“No.”

“By the end of tonight, you will,” Coriolanus grimaced. He rotated the pair of them on the dance floor so [Y/N]’s back was to them and he could keep eyes on her parents. “I’m going to touch you.” He whispered in her ear when the music shifted to something more akin to a rumba.

“What?”

In seconds, [Y/N] felt Coriolanus’ nose slide from where he had whispered in her ear and down her neck to above her pulse point. He planted one kiss to her throat. Coriolanus waited before kissing her again to make sure she didn’t throw him halfway across the event hall in rage first. After that, he felt he had the go-ahead to work more forcefully. Coriolanus sensually kissed hard up and down the right side of [Y/N]’s throat, while both of them tried to keep their fuzzy brains clear enough to keep dancing. He kept kissing and sucking at her neck until she let out a nice loud sound of pleasure. That was when he pulled away. He was happy to see a nice purple bruise starting to form on her exposed neck.

“How was that?” He asked dryly, trying to hold off a pending erection.

“You’re out of your mind. Do it again.”

“I’m pretty sure my boss is here, [Y/N]. That was… great, but unless there’s—“

“We got lectured our entire growing up at the Academy to make sure we were to be winners by any means necessary, Coriolanus. Push the envelope. It’s our night. We can do whatever we want. Let’s make it count, at least. With all these cameras here? You keep this up, and your face will be on every periodical in Panem.”

“Yeah, for terrible reasons!”

“Any press is good press and you know that. ‘TROUBLE IN THE ARENA?: GAMEMAKER’S FIANCÉE BREAKS DOWN AT PARTY,’” she said, showing a fictional headline example. “Below it, a nice picture of me crying and you dusting me off like a dutiful husband. Have your way with me and eventually I’ll snap and cry and accuse you of something you didn’t do, then you can ‘put me in place,’ so to speak. Control the fucking news cycle til everyone knows your name.”

[Y/N] could tell that Coriolanus had in fact agreed to gamble with his image when his hand slid down her back and grabbed her ass. His mouth ducked back into her neck as well, biting harder than [Y/N] expected. [Y/N] let out a painfully loud moan without meaning to.

“You want a show, let’s give ‘em a show.” He muttered against her skin. Coriolanus pulled his hips flush against his. The fabric of her ballgown being the only meaningful barrier between them. After a few moments, they had given up any chance at a rumba. Coriolanus stood over her, kissing her bruisingly hard anywhere we could reach.

“Coriolanus,” [Y/N] muttered. She gripped his shoulder tightly to steady herself. “Fuck, that feels good.”

Coriolanus took his hand out of the one that was clutching hers and slid it up to grab her face harshly between thumb and forefinger. “Can you shut up for a minute? I’ve let you run your mouth all day. It’s getting annoying,” He said, the mask of kindness slipping from his eyes. “You have had a complaint about everything. I put up with it, too. It’s getting… really,” Coriolanus’ hand gripped her ass harder over the ballgown. “Fucking annoying. You’re already making me do all this because I’m a dick. Stop being a brat. Please keep your mouth closed until I want it open, okay?”

He was holding her face so tightly that she couldn’t even nod. That’s when she saw the cameras start flashing, as Coriolanus gripped her by the face like a spoiled child and rubbed her ass in front of everyone she knew. “Yes.” She tried to mumble, but it came out squished.

“Great, then, we’re clear. Don’t think, just follow.” Coriolanus leaned forward and kissed her blazingly. That’s around the time [Y/N] could hear her mother in hysterics stomping to the bathroom. She sighed with relief, but also burned with humiliation. It felt like Coriolanus was practically trying to fuck her with her clothes on.

[Y/N] couldn’t believe this. This wasn’t brutally argumentative Snow, this wasn’t pseudo-gentle Snow. Who was this? What the fuck was he doing? Why did it feel good? [Y/N] felt a shiver tingle down her spine as he kissed her. Aggressively, she kissed back in an attempt at delivering that ruthlessness Coriolanus said he prized. He squashed that quickly and leaned her back, almost knocking her off her feet. She pulled back breathlessly.

[Y/N]’s eyes were darting around the room, watching everyone watching her. She was the show tonight. For the first time in her life, someone had made her the real center of attention that she always craved to me. Coriolanus granted her opportunity. It fucking worked. Her gaze shot back to Coriolanus, looking down at her possessively. He was mouthing something to her, but her intoxicated brain couldn’t signal her eyes to focus enough to piece together his words.

“What?” She whispered, leaning away from him.

More clearly this time, Coriolanus mouthed. “Hit. Me,” He leaned in close to her ear and whispered. “I told you. I’m leading; I have an idea.”

[Y/N] started to shake her head ‘no’ at her insane exhibitionist fiancé, but she remembered she was the one that had asked for a show. Without asking why, [Y/N] feigned disgust and stepped away from Coriolanus. She raised her hand and sharply slapped him across the face. This elicited gasps of shock from their guests. She could see a red mark beginning to develop on Coriolanus’ fair cheek.

Violence like this is what people in the Districts did. This was not what well-bred, promising youth from the Capitol did. The chatter in the room grew in the form of prying hushed whispers. The band stopped playing. This was not how beautiful young girls behaved at their engagement parties. [Y/N]’s stomach dropped. She looked angrily between her vile hand and the mark on Coriolanus’ face. Both of their expressions showed that she had hit him harder than they expected.

“How many men, [Y/N]?” Coriolanus asked, forcefully.

“What?” [Y/N] asked, shocked. She had no idea what he was talking about.

“How many men have had you behind my back?”

It was a fucking act. No truth to it at all. He wanted a rise out of her and so did the cameras. This was exactly what she had asked him, she didn’t realize how seriously he would take her.

[Y/N] sighed. She understood her role and she was going to play it perfectly. “One. Only one, I swear. None since you caught us in bed.” Lie. “Stop. We’re…” she glanced around, playing ashamed of the cameras. “We’re in public, Coriolanus. Please. Don’t cause a scene.” She said, parroting what he had said to her that morning.

That line did the trick. She saw the vein in his forehead pop out. “Don’t cause a scene? You struck me!” Coriolanus roared. “That’s unfair, and you know it.” The ghost of a smirk played on his lips while he clutched his face.

“You wouldn’t hear reason! The accusations you made of me, Coriolanus. You—You—“

Coriolanus surged forward and grabbed her by her forearms. “Accusations that are warranted. I don’t know how you expect me to trust you after something like that! Do you think I’m made of stone?”

“Yes!” [Y/N] yelled truthfully.

Coriolanus paused. “[Y/N], I hurt just as much as you do. You’re drunk. You’re not thinking straight,” He placated. “I just can’t stand to see how these men look at you like that, knowing you would trade me for them in a heartbeat.” He brought the tempo of their fight down with his false melancholy.

“Coriolanus…” [Y/N] said tentatively. “I wouldn’t… Not now. We’ve put that behind us. I-I’m yours and—“

“I made this whole night about you. I…” Coriolanus swallowed dramatically. “I love you.” Lie? “I love you, I spend all night trying to show you that I don’t want anyone but you. I try to make you feel special so you won’t stray again. And you, you hit me… I can’t do anything right enough for you.” He turned his face away, feigning hiding tears and released her arms.

Without the stabilizing touch of Coriolanus, [Y/N] was starting to feel uncertain on her feet from the alcohol. Far from gracefully, [Y/N] sank to the floor, her skirt fanning out around her as it had when she was searching for her shoe earlier that evening. From the drink, the tension and the state of her shambling life, [Y/N] let out an unexpected sob. Coriolanus turned his head in genuine surprise at the sound. “I’m sorry, my love,” she started through sniffles. “I’m sorry. Forgive me,” She looked up at him as her mascara began to drip down her cheeks. “Please forgive me. You have every right to leave, but please, Coriolanus, you’re all I have left.” That part was true. It was all gone. Her childhood home, the security of her parents, university and the Academy were behind her, taxing relationships with friends she had outgrown. Coriolanus was all that remained. [Y/N] cried harder. “I made a mistake.” She howled.

Coriolanus was impressed, to say the least. Cautiously, he knelt down in front of [Y/N]. He would remember this image of her for his whole life. With her mascara running, her stockings ripped, her shoes long missing, the top of her extravagant dress sliding too low for public consumption, she was divine, truthfully. That was her. That was how he would always want to remember her. “Darling?” He said quietly.

Now, the bastard was left open to play the dutiful savior, just as she had teased earlier.

[Y/N] started to twist the engagement ring off of her finger, theatrically. Coriolanus took her obvious bait and took her hand to stop her. He slid the ruby ring back down her finger calmly. “Darling, I’m not going anywhere. You’re drunk. You just need a little help, right? You mustn’t drink so much. It breaks my heart to see you like this,” Coriolanus squeezed her hand and brought it to his lips, kissing it softly. “You need me. I’m not going anywhere. What kind of husband would that make me if I did?”

She nodded. “Thank you,” she wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. “You’re a good man, Coriolanus,” LIE. “You’re too good to me.”

“Come on,” Coriolanus rose from the floor and extended a hand to her. “Let’s get you home, huh?” He said condescendingly.

[Y/N] took his hand carefully. He pulled her up and she stumbled to her feet. Coriolanus wrapped an arm tightly around her waist and pulled her closer. He glanced around in surprise to address the crowd that had gathered in front of them. “I’m sorry for everything you just had to see. Please be kind to my fiancée; she’s had a lot to drink. Posca, right?” Coriolanus darkly attempted a somber joke. “I should’ve kept a closer eye on her. We’ll be getting home. Thank you all for coming out to celebrate us tonight.” Sorry to call it a night with so much night left.” He said softly.

Coriolanus led her to the edge of the dance floor where he had spotted her shoes. He grabbed the red shoes from the floor and carried them dangling from his free hand as he walked her to the door and down the stairs to the sidewalk. [Y/N] had a vague memory of Coriolanus summoning their driver via the valet at the door. She was too busy noticing how her stockings caught on the sidewalk with every step.

“Darling?” Coriolanus whispered, leaning down to whisper to her. “You were brilliant.”

“Really?” She sniffled hesitantly. “Because I’m fairly certain that everyone in that room hates me.”

“Any press is good press.” Coriolanus reminded her with a gentle kiss to the forehead.

“For you, maybe. I made a mistake asking for that…” she kicked at a stray stone on the sidewalk. “I am probably the biggest villain in Panem right now.” [Y/N] said, shaking her head a little with a sad laugh.

“Not a villain,” Coriolanus scoffed. “A star.”

PART II HERE

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satorubi · 1 year

Text

#1 : SLUT CERTIFIED ! — eren yaeger

꒱ ➛ CHAPTER SYNOPSIS : eren’s first favor.

˚◞♡ who ?? : eren yaeger x black fem! reader

˚◞♡ word count : 8.2K ( i am so sorry )

˚◞♡ chapter warnings : minors DO NOT interact, mentions of female anatomy, fem! reader using she/her pronouns, somewhat bimbo reader ??? mentions of asshole connie, mentions of player! connie ( i’m sorry ), use of profanity, oral penetration, cunninlingus, body worship, fingering, pet names such as [ mama, baby, angel ] slow-paced smut, a little bit of a cliffhanger.

˚◞♡ author’s note : NUMBER ONE — i am so sorry for posting this so late. i ended up re-writing the entire thing many times but i have a good feeling ab this ver. BUT ANYWAY !!!! first chapter !!! yayyy !! i’m very exited to share this with you alllll <3 i appreciate the amount of support you’ve given me before this was released and i love u for it 🫶🏽 anyways, excuse any mistakes or typos !! i hope you enjoy. reblogs n interactions are deeply loved <33

the typical friday night lights of the city shined brightly through eren’s studio apartment. nothing but the sound of livid drivers behind their steering wheels and the occasional dog barking at whomever may pass by. not to mention you — his best friend ; sitting next to him with a burning blunt plied between your fingers as your eyes intensely gaze at the soothing window view.

although, you didn’t exactly look so soothed.

there was a look of a apprehension pervading your features, almost as if you were deep in thought. eren sets his jaded irises on you and the small smile that once stretched across his lips fades.

“uh, you good?”

your eyes trail over when you take heed to his question, w taking a breath before looking at him with hopeful eyes. usually, you didn’t find yourself having such a challenging time when asking eren anything, but as of right now, the next few sentences you say may or may not tarnish your friendship.

“i’m fine. i um.. i just don’t know how to really ask you this,” you confess. eren then turns his rested head towards you, eyes looking at you with scrutiny as he tries to piece together what exactly that little mind of yours was thinking.

“talk to me, what’s wrong? i do somethin’ again?” you rashly shake your head from side to side, grabbing his hands in yours and squeezing as you nervously laugh —

“you know your friend connie, right?”

the audible groan that leaves eren’s lips is priceless, and so was the look on his face, “you mean the annoying bald motherfucker from high school that won’t leave me alone? hm, the name doesn’t really ring a bell.”

well if that wasn’t obvious enough, yes, they knew each other. they’d been friends for a while now. you can recall first meeting connie during your junior year of high school ; eren introducing you at a house party your devious asses had no business being at. he was cute, and even a little funny, but you’d never really paid attention to him until a few months ago.

him now being in his twenties meant you got to see him grow to cover his body with ink — his arms and legs. and you most definitely couldn’t forget the amount of muscle he’d gained just over a year after graduating high school. point being, he was just your type. and you were his. that’s why it didn’t take very long for you two to begin talking. but of course, after a few dates and many, many occasions of giving him severe blue balls, you figured it was finally time to step it up a notch.

“well you know we’ve been talking for a while now..and we’ve been planning to go out of the city for a little vaycay and i was thinking that maybe it was time he and I could take our relationship to the next — “

“for him to fuck you and break up with you like he did that one girl last year? nah. not lettin’ you do that.” he interrupts you before you could even begin to finish, shaking his head from side to side as he focuses his attention back to the moving city outside the window.

you could say he was being harsh, but at the end of the day, eren knew him better than you did — regardless of being familiar with one another since the early age of fourteen. connie was a heartbreaker. a true player at heart.

that boy couldn’t keep a woman for longer than a month before tossing her to the side as if she was some accessory — many of those women being too good to for him to begin with.

women like you.

the women who were too kind for their own good. the women who never failed to put a smile on a saddened face with just a few simple words. you were the type of woman he’d easily break — and that was just something eren couldn’t bare to swallow. but alas, who was he to judge? he just wanted to see you happy — that was his one and only concern, and if this whole ordeal would succeed that goal, he has no problem doing whatever he can to get you there.

“i wasn’t asking for your permission. i just needed your help, but i guess it’s useless to ask now.” the look of lost hope on your face pulls at eren’s heartstrings, him almost immediately exhaling and rolling at eyes at the sight of your pleading yet condescending gaze.

“jesus, what do you want? advice? intel? a wing man—“

“i want you to teach me how to fuck.”

it took everything in him not to laugh because the more he held your gaze, the more he realized you were genuinely being serious. eren’s eyes nearly pop out of his skull. you stare, waiting for his response as he gives you an intrigued looked rather than a confused one, “i think you need to elaborate. that’s a crazy sentence to say.”

“y’know, like blowjo —“

“i know what sex is, yn.”

you and the word ‘fuck’ had never been been a thought in eren’s mind up until now, so to know he’d be the one seeing you bare for the first time was definitely…mind boggling. seriously, the closest eren has come to even seeing a glimpse of you would have to be when you went scuba diving in miami for your nineteenth birthday — and even then, you were still somewhat clothed.

“i know it’s weird and i completely get it if you aren’t comfortable with —“

“i mean..i don’t really mind teaching you. i’d rather you learn from me rather than a lame ass porno.”

that was a response you weren’t expecting. you’d made sure to prepare yourself for rejection when you came over, but eren had proved you wrong. he didn’t seem to be phased — a resting grin on his face whilst you fully comprehend his answer.

“wait — really?”

he nods, shrugging his broad shoulders, “yeah? it’s not like we like each other or somethin.’ just think of it as my favor to you.” eren motions his fingers for you to pass him the blunt, but you nearly drop it from your fingers as you toss your arms around his neck — embracing him tightly as you whisper a stream of ‘thank yous’ into his neck.

you feel eren’s palms trail up and down your spine, rubbing the small of your back. he laughs at your excitement, “what’s connie gonna’ think about all this, hm?” he questions — validly questions. of course he didn’t like the guy, but he still needed some source of clarity. his days of fucking someone else’s girl were long gone and he’d never step foot into that life ever again. it was too messy.

“he doesn’t know he’d be my first — well, second..besides you. plus, he said it himself : we’re not official! it’s not wrong to see other people,” you casually say this as if you hadn’t just admitted to connie openly voicing that he was playing you, but then again, if you didn’t see an issue, neither did eren.

“yeah, i bet he did say that.”

“oh don’t be like that. you’re such a hater — he is your friend after all,” you poke at his bicep teasingly, amused at the side eye he sends you. you knew eren and connie relationship wasn’t the absolute best — frenemies you’d like to call it. they had their good days, and their bad ones, but you knew, on the outside looking in, it was endless love for one another all around.

“he’s an acquaintance.”

your eyes roll and you huff, “whatever. when do you wanna do this? i leave for the trip in a few weeks. i wanna’ be as ready as possible before then.”

“well, i gotta’ meet up with jean and armin for poker tomorrow night, but after that i’m free if you —“

“great. we’ll start tomorrow. and poker? what are you, old men?”

“oh hush, you like to knit.”

you shove him and you both begin burst out in laughter. the rest of the night was spent doing what you and eren would normally do — watching movies, chatting amongst yourselves and every now and then, casually bickering like an old married couple over the silliest of things.

but these innocent gestures would soon hold a brand new meaning in such a short amount of time. neither of you realized the mistake you were about to make. the days of occasional i love you’s and holding hands out of comfort were long gone now.

saturday night at armin’s ; a night looked forward to by most —most meaning eren and eren only. there was no better feeling than getting together with his closest friends to trash talk, share a few glasses of rum, and catch up on whatever life had thrown at one another throughout the week.

but what he loved most watching the look of defeat on jean’s face when eren finally placed his last chips. it was a scene he’d pay for.

“you’re a fuckin’ cheater.”

eren laughs, stretching his arms across the table and pulling the pile of neatly stacked chips toward himself. he takes a moment to look over at armin who has his phone out recording jean’s rage all the while chuckling tauntingly under his breath.

“hating the player when you should be hating the game. that’s crazy.”

“fuck you,” jean mumbles. eren steers his attention away from the grown man’s mini tantrum when he hears an angry knock at armin’s door. heads turn in unison, “damn armin. forgot you had a girl comin’ over tonight or something?” the blonde rises from his seat, walking over to take a look at the peephole to reveal a standing connie in front of the door, “it’s just con, guys.” the door is pulled open, and at the sound of connie’s name eren could already feel himself tuning everyone out.

the sound of connie’s voice alone was enough to make eren want to gather his keys and satchel to make a run for it, but it was nowhere near the time to meet with you.

“its about time y’all answer the fuckin’ door. i’ve been knocking and waiting for like thirty minutes now,” this was a lie. poker always started at seven, and it was now thirty past nine.

“you’re late,” eren huffs. connie gives him the finger, scoffing as he makes his way over to the table, “where were you?” eren sounded like a stern parent scolding their child, but at the end of the day, there was something off about connie in this moment that was shifting his mood from solemn to easily irritable.

“damn, am i not allowed to oversleep every once in a while?” oversleep eren’s ass. the purple and blueish colored bruises beginning to taint connie’s neck said otherwise. he’d obviously been acting on that ‘seeing other people’ bullshit he fed you — and if eren was being honest, the lack of coverage showed just how little he respected you.

eren conjures a smug laugh, “oversleeping huh?” jean does the same, vividly noticing the markings as his eyes peer over to the exact spot as eren’s, “more like fucking. i see you and yn are becoming pretty close, huh ?” he asks.

“y-yeah, yeah. she’s great, man.”

“just great? you’ve been talking for like four or five months now,” armin chimes in, and thank the heavens above that he did. it was evident that the group as a collective were well aware of connie’s shitty behavior.

“i mean…it’s nothin’ too serious. she’s cute, for real. we’re just taking it slow.” nothing too serious? for christ’s sake, he was planning a getaway with you in a few weeks. it’s like all of this was just a little game of cat and mouse to him. you’d think connie being aware of how tightly knit you and eren were would give him some sort of change at heart, but nope — that was just connie for you.

eren could practically feel the blood pumping through his veins. he rolls his tongue around the inside of his cheek, tapping lightly onto the wooden table with a deep mug twisting his chiseled features.

“i think ima’ call it a night,” eren voices, rising from his reclined position slowly while avoiding eye contact, “i have some shit to do.” shit to do meaning heading towards your place earlier than he should be. he couldn’t stand to be around connie and his ignorance. it was depriving and overall time consuming.

“the fuck? i just got here, eren,” connie scoffs, but eren doesn’t stick around long enough to hear the bass in his voice rise to a T. the door slams behind him, eren now making his way out of the door and down the hall to head for his black mustang parked out front. the skin of his cheeks and the tips of his ears flushed pink with a crack of discomfort bubbling inside of him.

the moment he unlocked his car doors and hopped in, he didn’t know if the adrenaline was getting to him or just the sheer fact that he liked the taste of making connie angry, but that whole interaction just made him all more enthused to see you.

no matter how much you liked connie or how much you cared about a potential relationship with him, he couldn’t beat the fact that eren would easily treat and fuck you way better than he ever could — hypothetically speaking, of course.

and that’s why, the only thought on his mind was to make tonight a moment you’ll never forget.

with a day consisted of excruciatingly long lectures and excessive amounts of homework given by your professors, you could finally find yourself prancing down your apartment hallway, eager to enter your home to prepare for what the night had in store.

you fumble with the keys on your baby-pink lanyard, specially made for you and given to you by eren for your birthday one year. the sound of your living room television could be faintly heard resonating through the wood as you started to unlock your door. you furrow your brows since you know for a fact that you made sure to turn it off before you departed earlier this morning.

your hand twists at the nob, the fingers of your opposite hand clutching tightly onto your pepper spray, but to your surprise — you quickly feel a sense of relief travel through your body as you see none other than eren. his legs spread, arms behind his head as he lounges on your white couch which a bowl of half eaten ice cream resting on the coffee table before him.

to say he startled you would be an understatement, but the sound of your keys jangling did just about the same to him : his head almost immediately turning toward the door to face you.

“what are you doing here, ren? and how the fuck did you even get—“

“you gave me a key, remember?” he asks, pointing to his neatly hung set of keys on the coat hook beside the front door. as soon as you turn to look in that way, his lifeless lips start to smile and he begins to giggle at your confusion, “damn, about to pepper spray me and everything, huh?” he quips.

you simply plop down next to him, sinking into the warmth of the sofa as his arm gently moves to rest behind your head, “you’re the one who can’t send a damn text. it would’ve been nice to have a heads up, ren,” he smiles at your tone ; sounding just like his mother, carla, when she used to yell at him for being a sneak.

ah, what a time.

“i thought it was poker night. i didn’t think i’d see you until ten,” your inquiry was enough to make eren riled up all over again, but for your sake, he chooses to leave out the part where he nearly wanted to slap your potential partner across his face.

“i kept winning, so i left. it got boring.”

eren’s blatant lie didn’t seem to phase you. in fact, you seemed to have easily glossed over his sorry excuse of a response, and instead choosing to gush over the possibility of him seeing connie.

“was con there? did he say anything about me?” you giddily ask, a smile complimenting your dilated pupils with just the mention of his name. eren only sheepishly grins, “yeah, he was there alright. called you cute too.”

eren barely cracks a smile at this, seeing how effortlessly your face lit up at the sound of the bare minimum. poor, sweet, innocent yn — too blinded to realize the boy you spoke so highly of only used a simple sentence when speaking of you. it was sad almost, seeing you be so naïve. but then again, telling you wouldn’t make a difference — it would only start an argument.

“he’s so sweet. i think he gets nervous in front of you guys…y’know, when he talks about me.”

“…right.” eren decides to navigate the conversation elsewhere, “so..did you wanna’ get some food or something before we start or..”

“don’t be so awkward, eren,” you laugh. you squeeze his bicep consolingly, “i’m gonna’ go freshen up a bit and then we can get going. it’s been a long day.” you tread off toward your room, shutting the door behind you and leaving eren alone on your living room couch.

for some odd reason, eren found himself to be more nervous than he was when he first entered. he didn’t know if it was the mystery of it all or the simple fact that he would be seeing you naked for the first time, but his heart was damn near beating out of his chest.

the scuffling sounds coming from your bedroom only induces his anxious heart, eyes directing their attention toward howl’s moving castle playing quietly on the tv.

“eren! can you come in here for a minute?” he hears your soft voice call out from behind the door. eren blinks a few times, confused on why you hadn’t just come out yet, but the moment he opens the door to your room — he knows.

there you were, standing in the connected bathroom in front of the mirror, adjusting and shifting your waist length faux locs from one side to the other. your body was decorated in a pink, two piece lingerie set. he’s stunned to say the least, eyes tracing the outline of your figure — picking and observing the small tattoos sitting just above your ass and right below your left thigh.

“eren? you with me?” your question snaps him out of your forbidden trance. eren clears his throat, running a hand down his chest in a self-comforting manner. it takes everything in him to control the arousal forming in his pants. there was no denying it — you were fucking gorgeous, but this wasn’t a regular hookup and you weren’t just a regular girl.

you were his best friend and right now, the hard cock in his pants is thinking otherwise.

“y-yeah, i’m with you. i’m right here.” you don’t see the way his eyes look you up and down, nor do you see him sucking on his bottom lip while doing so. instead, your focus is on the inner thoughts in your head, pondering about if your choice of attire was overdone.

“is it too much? i saw it at the mall earlier today after class and i thought it would be fitting —“ he cuts you off before you could even dare finish that sentence.

“nah, you..,” he takes a moment, looking at you in awe as if he’d just seen an angel, “you look beautiful.” you don’t perceive the smoothness of his voice but it’s there. it’s so obviously there, and you’re so obviously breathtaking.

face bare, lips coated in a thin layer of lipgloss and smelling as if you’d just showered in roses — like said, breathtaking.

“i-im sorry. i can take it off if it makes you uncomfortable —“

“no.” that slips out faster than he intended, but he didn’t care. it got his point across simple enough. you laugh, turning to your left to finally come face to face with him, only to dig eren in a deeper hole than he was already in.

“well..i’m ready when you are,” you announce. seeming to be all around enthused about this, you take a few steps closer, inching forward to the point where you’re arms length away. eren still stands there, quiet with gentle eyes as he grips the top ledge of the doorframe. you hear his breathing become unsteady, almost as if he’d lost that smooth talking, serenading attitude he once carried.

he felt like the virgin here.

“are you nervous?” you ask, studying the way his eyes pierce while he stares at your lips, “we can stop before it starts.”

with he way he was feeling, a wise man would’ve called it all off, but eren…eren needed needed you. he needed to touch you, to feel you, to please you in some way — beyond the act of just giving you guidance.

he answers your question with a question, “are you?” you shake your head, rocking back and forth on the heels of your feet as you wait for his next statement.

but his next move surprises you.

without hesitation, you watch as eren towers over you, taking his thumb and index to lift your chin — letting you naturally meet his alluring gaze, “can i kiss you, yn?” the moment you begin to nod is the same exact moment when his lips brush against your own. the contact almost shocking the both of you as a small gasp leaves your mouth, and his stuttered hand grasps the side of your neck.

eren was kissing you. he was kissing you as if you’d easily break under his touch. the butterflies in your stomach begin to flip. by default, you close your eyes and fall into it — moving along and following his soft yet hungry pace.

it was funny. it was like you were kissing each other as if you’d been waiting to do so your entire lives. considering you’d always deemed eren as attractive and an overall somewhat decent man, the thought of him giving you butterflies had never occurred.

if anything, those same butterflies were present while you spent time with connie, but never ever have they fluttered like this. maybe it was the heat of the moment, or maybe it was just an effort to set the mood, but this felt like an eternity you’d never wish to end.

his hand was incredibly light against your neck, giving you a distinct chill as the one creeping down your waist sends an unfamiliar shiver elsewhere. as the kiss gradually intensifies, over the course of a few seconds, reaching its peak, he then sucks on your bottom lip. pulling and yanking on it like he was in dire need of more — which he was.

he’s groaning, he’s hard, and most importantly, he’s infatuated. your lips felt like heaven against his, so plush and so comforting. eren was so lost in you that he couldn’t even begin to fathom the consequences that may come.

“y-you can touch me some more,” you mumble in between breaths — and that was all he needed.

“where…tell me where, baby.”

baby — a word you thought you never hear coming out of eren’s mouth when referring to you. it didn’t make you contemplate much though, it was hard to think about anything at all once you felt his hands grip and mush at your backside. he fondles it in his palms, letting your skin mold into his hands.

“i more, ren. more please…”

he hears you, he hears you so clearly — and he wants more of you too, “what, hm? want me to touch you here?” you feel his hand sneak around toward your inner thigh, fingers tips grazing the area near your pussy. you let out an unexpected sigh of pleasure.

“an important part of intimacy is what makes you feel good. so tell me, what feels good to you, yn?” eren appeared to look and sound more confident than he felt.

“h-here. here feels good.” you gesture toward your pretty pink underwear that had been fighting to be taken off for the last five minutes. eren was just as ready as you were, waiting for the moment you were comfortable enough to allow him to please you like he was itching to.

“yeah, you like touching yourself there don’t you?”

“y-yes,”

“you want me to touch you there?”

there should be a world record for how quickly you whimper ‘yes’ under your breath. the same goes for how quickly eren scoops you from the floor, cupping his hands underneath the back of your thighs as he carries you in his arms toward your bed. eren lays you on your back, your spine hitting the fluffed sheets of your mattress. as much as he wanted you right then and there, the thought of your innocence comes back to mind.

this was your first time.

“we’ll take it slow, alright?” he asks, and when he doesn’t hear a response from you he becomes worried. the energy shifts from hot and hasty to nerve wracking and what the fuck am i doing, and it’s evident, “do you wanna’ stop? we can forget that shit in the bathroom ever happened, okay? i don’t mind—“

“no! no, it’s..it’s okay, ren. really, i’m just a bit nervous that’s all.”

you weren’t lying. you were more than comfortable with him being the one to do this. in truth, you were more turned on than you’ve ever been, but then again this was all so surreal. the boy you’ve called best friend your entire life was about to be the first to see you in such a personal way.

there were so many what ifs — too many to count on your own two hands. what if there was a possibility he gets uninterested mid-way through? what if he was judgmental of the way you looked? what if he lies about your anatomy just to spare you the embarrassment?

these were all the things you’d thought of, but these were also all of the things that eren would never in a million fucking years do.

“nervous? of me?”

“it’s just, you’re the only one who’s ever…seen down there and i don’t know if —“

“look at me.” his hands travel up and down your thighs, comforting and soothing your jitters as you fight the intense amount of eye contact he was throwing your way, “can you look at me, please?” eren’s treasuring voice allows you to relax a bit, your eyes meeting his.

“you’re an angel — an absolute angel. you have nothing to be ashamed of. especially in front of me, okay?” you nod, breath remaining steady after hearing his words of encouragement. you shoot him that sweet, signature smile, allowing him to wipe away the small tear that’d fallen down your cheek.

“you’re too pretty to be cryin’ like that. worrying over nothing. lemme’ make you feel better..”

you let your back fall back onto your bed once again, watching as eren lowers down onto his knees while coming face to face with your cunt, “spread your legs for me,” he kindly orders. eren has no problem helping you do so, lifting your squished thighs onto his shoulders while your ass hangs off of the bed.

he takes the hair tie around his wrist and gathers his hair back, pulling his strands into a low, loose bun to the back of his head. there were a few more pieces of small hairs that scattered across his hairline, making him look all the more handsome than he already did.

“ready?”

you nod.

“if there’s ever a time where you want me to stop, don’t hesitate to tell me.”

you wished you could’ve captured the look on his face on camera, cause it was definitely a sight to remember. you hadn’t seen his cheeks this red since he peed himself in front of his crush in the second grade.

“can i take these off?” these referring to your underwear. the same pair underwear that reveal a damp patch in the middle now that eren was really looking at them. once you voice a simple yes, he takes a second to admire you. running his fingers along the waistband, eyes roaming all over with no clue what they should look at first. you were too pretty — too lovely for him to even begin comprehending.

eren hears you lightly groan, and he begins to pry your underwear off, but he does this slowly — so slowly that it’s almost unbearable for you. he was moving as if you were a brittle creature in danger of being easily corrupted ; which you were, and that’s when he felt the need to pinch himself. seeing your hips lurch around in an effort to get him to move faster was one of the cutest things eren’s ever laid his eyes on.

there was no way he was in this position right now. kneeled in front of you with your bare cunt staring back at him, your folds sleek with your own liquid bliss dripping from them like honey on a comb. to put it short, you looked good enough to eat — and that’s exactly what eren was going to do : devour you like you were the last meal he’d ever be able to taste.

he kisses your inner thighs, the intention of leaving marks becoming prevalent as he makes his way down toward your pussy, “you ever play with yourself?” eren was so close — close enough for you to be able to feel his breath on your clit, tickling you.

“s-sometimes,” you couldn’t look at him. not when he’s on his knees and touching you like this. he hadn’t even begun the action and you were already losing hope in the idea of you being able to keep your composure.

“ever had someone do it for you?”

with unsteady breaths leaving your lips, you choose to answer honestly, “no.” he chuckles, taking his thumb and unexpectedly grazing it over your clit. you nearly jolt at the feeling. given you’ve been the only one with the access down there, it felt much different feeling someone else’s hand.

“i can tell. look at how responsive you are, mama.” he sounded fascinated, flicking you gently just to get you used to the sensation. you felt so sensitive, so fragile — and that wouldn’t even be the be the end of it, “and this pussy’s so fuckin’ wet..”

“erenn… wanna — i wanna’ feel more!”

“what, hm? more what?” he keeps at the slow pace of his thumb, not stopping or increasing until he hears your next few words fill his ears and shoot straight to his pants.

“your mouth..wanna’ feel your mouth, ren. please?” you say this as if he didn’t look like he was sitting on the edge of his seat just waiting for you to grant him the access. it doesn’t take any further words for eren to latch his mouth onto your pussy slowly. he makes an introduction with small pecks to your visibly puffy clit, making sure to pay attention to the way your body reacted to the simple touch.

he watches your belly rise up and down from the snag in your pattern of breath. once he sees you begin to grow comfortable, he makes the jump to lay his tongue flat against your pussy, licking a long stripe against your core and letting the sticky salvia from his mouth lubricate you.

“ooh – fuck!” you whimper, quickly covering your mouth once realizing what’d slipped out. eren sees this, reaching his hand out for you to grab before taking his mouth off of you for a split second.

“don’t do that shit. i wanna’ hear you.”

he resumes, pressing the bridge of his nose against your clit and licking your folds to create a sort of double penetration. you feel the texture of his tongue tickling your labia, applying minimum pressure to ensure a pleasurable stream of delight traveling through your belly, “feels s-so good. you’re so fucking good at tha – nnn!” when eren starts to feel himself losing his breath, he comes up for air, just to see you now resting on your elbows and looking down at him with quizzical eyes. he’d never seen you look so happy.

there was sweat beaming from your forehead and a bit of it forming on your upper lip, the lips that which eren was fighting the urge to kiss. your bra strap had slipped down a bit, now resting on your upper arm and exposing a bit of your nipple that slipped from the cup.

“w-why’d you stop?” you ask, hyperventilating. eren rests his head against the inner flesh of your thigh, looking as dazed as ever.

“i-im sorry, you just look…so pretty.”

this wasn’t out of the norm. eren always made it a goal to uplift you whenever he could, but there was something about the deliverance of that sentence that sent your mind into a never-ending frenzy. it was hard to believe that this was anything more than just a simple gesture to really get himself into character with the heart shaped desire he carried in his eyes.

“you look pretty too,” the echo in your head must’ve been deceiving you. you’d hoped to keep that one to yourself but the look on his face told you that he’d definitely heard you say that out loud.

“yeah? bet you wonder what else i look pretty doin’ don’t you?”

a smug grin appears on his lips, but the teasing remark did no justice for how he truly felt. instead, he just decides to show you ; placing his mouth back into your pussy with little to no remorse with his tongue this time. your hands magically find their way to his hair, running your nails through his scalp as you balance your upper body with one elbow. eren groans into you, the sound reverberating through your core and shaking you a bit.

at one point, his fingers brush past your hole, earning a loud unexpected moan from you. this shocks him, almost as much as it shocks you. you didn’t know why, but there was a sense of urgency pumping through your veins. you wanted more — more than what he was already giving you after you’d asked the first time.

“oh? you want a finger, don’t you?”

“mmfuck – yes! yes, just, do something eren, please!” you beg. your back arches from the sheets, fists bawling with anticipation. eren stands onto his feet and finds a seat on the bed. his back now rests against the headboard, eren’s chest heaving as he motions his index and middle finger in a ‘come here’ motion.

you hesitate at first, not sure exactly where he wants you until he’s pulling you into the space between his thighs. you instantly feel the warmth as you collide with his tank top covered chest. he was so much larger than you — and well, that’s the benefit of having a best friend that stood tall at a whopping 6’3.

“lemme’ see that pussy,” eren orders and you oblige quickly, parting your thighs for him once again while his chin sits in the crook of your neck, “isn’t she pretty, look at her..” you feel his hand grasping on your jaw softly, directing your focus to the soppy, wet cunt between your legs.

you were still so wet. wet enough to feel your essence dripping down your crack and onto your bed. you were messy but you wanted to be messier — you wanted to feel messier.

and he reads your thoughts before you even have to say a damn thing.

“you want me to play with you, hm? teach you how to take fingers before takin’ dick, is that right?”

“ren, just do something –“

“answer me, baby. don’t be shy. this is about you and what you want. so why don’t you just tell me what it is you want from me?” the room felt hot, and the air felt thick. the only contact between you both being your back against eren’s chest and his hand casually caressing your tummy, “p-put them in. god – just put them the fuck in,” you whine. eren’s chest fumbled with a laugh and he gives the side of your forehead a quick kiss.

“there she is.”

goosebumps pattern your chestnut skin when you finally feel his hand inching toward your pussy. you carefully watch, mouth held agape and your eyes batting shut the moment his fingers move in a counterclockwise motion against your agitated clit.

“gotta’ prep you some more, okay? i don’t wanna’ hurt you.” oh, right, pain. you’d been so blindsided by the pleasure that you’d forgotten that this in fact was not the simplest of processes.

eren keeps rubbing your clit, his eyes piercing into the side of your skull as he does this. you take a second to observe the veins that decorated his forearms. blue and greenish lines hiking from his wrist to his inner elbow. you’d always thought he had the prettiest hands. so neatly manicured and topped with a thick coat of clear polish — a pink color if you’d volunteer to paint them for him.

you don’t know why, but all of this made you crave him — badly. you turn your head, wandering eyes finding his. you stare at him, then his lips, then him again. he looked so kissable.

you just had to do it.

leaning in, you take in his musky scent and it lures you in closer. so close to where you’re practically poking your lips out to get him to kiss you back — and he does. for the second time tonight, your heart bursts with excitement feeling his lips on yours. you place your hands on his thighs, grinding along with his fingers, “i think i’m wet enough,” you mumble. he looks down, seeing that — you were indeed wet enough. your slick covered the majority of his fingers and your pulsing pussy felt like it was just about ready to give up on its orgasm.

“i think so too,” he pauses the motion, hovering his middle finger over your hole, and begins to softly lubricate the area with your own mess, “it’ll be uncomfortable at first. body isn’t used to being stretched, y’know?” eren pauses, lips coming close to your ear as he whispers, “but i’ll break you in…and i’ll do it so good…and you’re gonna’ tell me just how good it feels, okay?”

that sentence alone got you wetter, and eren feels this — literally. he kisses your temple over and over as he slowly begins to push his finger inside of you, “don’t look away, you’ll miss how good you’re doing..” you clench onto his opposite arm ; the one that wasn’t busy giving you a bit of discomfort, and you bite down on your bottom lip.

it was one finger, and you’d been used to that. you’d done it to yourself maybe once or twice, but you’ve never gotten any sort of pleasure out of doing so. but now, it felt so different — the slow in and out, in and out, pace. his finger pushing and gliding along your snugged walls while he licks and nips at your neck and ear. it felt amazing.

“f-fuck eren, so…so good,” your breathless chest rises and falls, nipples as hard as they’ve ever been — needing to be touched. your hand slowly creeps up to touch one of your needy tits, gripping and mounding it in your hand slowly while pulling your nipples between your fingers.

he’s watching you — studying you, actually. this wasn’t just a learning experience for you, but for him as well. eren was learning exactly how to navigate your body. he knew which itches to scratch and what barriers you’d overcome. he got to see you in your purest form — carefree and exhilarated.

“y’know…the human body is a temple, yn,” eren begins, resting his head on your shoulder as he wraps his other arm across your chest, pulling you in tightly, “only the worthiest of men should be able to touch you like this.” you didn’t know where he was going with this, and you didn’t know why it was giving you the feeling it was, but you wouldn’t stop it even if you had the option to. his finger felt too good. you wanted — no, you needed another.

“so, what makes me so worthy, baby?”

“b-because i trust you.”

you feel the pressure of another finger slowly making its move to inch it’s way in — eren holding back until you give him the green light to even try, “yeah? you trust me to do this too?” he asks, pushing the second finger past your barricade as gently as he could. he didn’t lie, the stinging discomfort was nothing to mess with — but you wanted it.

“sh-shit eren!

you wanted to feel him stuff you full.

you clench your eyes shut, face scrunching up as you whine a bit at the temporary pain, “you’re doing good, yn. you’re bein’ such a good girl..”

that opened you up more. able to get better access to you, eren’s fingers moving together as one eventually became pleasurable. the uncomfortable feeling had subsided and somehow turned into an eye rolling, spine twisting pressure against your core. his fingers were slowly, but surely, jabbing into your pussy, a small creamy noise following behind his movements as the wetness of you makes it easier for him to get around.

“o-ooh! fuuuck, eren…right there –” you could barely maintain pulling a full sentence from your brain, but luckily for you, you didn’t need to say a word. eren could feel every little thought or emotion through your pussy. the way your walls naturally open up for him, giving him the opportunity to find that perfect spot ; it was like you were made for this — made for him.

“she’s so needy – thinkin’ maybe i should move a little faster, don't you? all i wanna’ do is make you cum, mama.” he says this as if it’s a promise — and to be honest, he was pretty close to achieving that promise. the sound of your whines and the squirms of your hips were enough to tell him to pick up speed.

so that's exactly what he does.

eren plunges his fingers in and out of you, poking at what he was certain was your g-spot — every time he’d hit it with his fingertips, there was another whimper leaving your mouth, “i feel that pussy tightin’ up, you wanna’ cum, don’t you?” tauntingly, he asks this as if you weren’t already on the brink of tears, “don’t fight yourself. let it go.”

now eren’s hand is moving rapidly, automatically making your legs spread further open. now, he was really there — and so were you. the knot in your stomach that's been there this whole time was starting to unravel. you rest your head firmly against his shoulder, “rennn – feels so fuckin’ good! don’t stop, please don’t stop!”

“i won’t, baby. i’m right here – i feel you, just let me have it.” his encouragement works and he reels you in. you feel your stomach contracting as your heart starts to race. eren sits you up straight, keeping your weakened body from falling over while he keeps working your pussy.

“eren, eren, eren! f-fuuck yess!” you shout and his fingers curl upwards creating a distinct squelching sound and you claw onto whatever you could find — that being the same arm between your legs.

“cum for me. cum for me, come on,” out of nowhere, you release — and all over his hand, at that. your eyes are wandering, seeing blank spots trickling the ceiling as you cum on both eren’s fingers and your mattress, “atta’ fuckin’ girl..”

he pumps you some more before slowly pulling his fingers out, leaving a stringed trail of your cum to follow them. there was enough on him for both he, and you to get a little taste — but he needed to know you were okay first.

you were reclined against his chest still, eyes closed with your exhales being rather hoarse. eren wraps both arms around you, hugging you from behind as he kisses the top of your scalp repeatedly, “m’ so proud of you, yn. you did great – so, fuckin’ great.”

your head is still in a slight daze, and although your vision had come back, you hadn’t yet gained the full consciousness to realize what the hell just happened.

eren just fingered you.

eren just made you cum.

eren just mind fucked you.

there were so many things to think about, so many moments to cherish, but most importantly — there were so many doubts running through your mind. you walked into your apartment today under the impression that this would just be a piece of cake : he comes in, he teaches you, he leaves — that’s it. so why did you want to remain snuggled into his arms? why did you want him to kiss you to sleep after coming down from that life changing orgasm?

why did you want…eren?

“you okay? i wasn’t too rough was i? anything hurt?” he must’ve sensed your uncertainty. you quickly rise a bit, turning over your shoulder only to see him with worried eyes.

“no, no. you were perfect,” you go to lift your hand up to side of his face but you stop before completing that thought, “but, i think we need to make some rules.” his already flattened expression got even flatter. eren could feel his heart dropping to his stomach at the thought of even making you uncomfortable in the slightest bit. that was the last thing he’d ever want to do.

“r-rules?”

you nod, now feeling the need to sit directly in front of him, still in between his legs. you hold his hands in yours, looking at him with sympathy, “you did nothing wrong, ren. i just think we should set some boundaries?”

“oh. so..uh, what’d you have in mind?”

you sit there for a moment, reminiscing back to a few moments ago when you were shaking in his comforting grasp, “well, maybe we should hold off on the kissing? i just…i’m with connie and i don’t think it’s appropriate to kiss you while —“

“got it.”

you’re left silent. eren had a habit of cutting you off, but as of right now, he seemed rather passive than talkative. the guy couldn’t even make eye contact with you. he only sits, eyes fixed on any other object in sight but you.

“eren —“

“it’s okay, really. i understand. no kissing, anything else you can think of that you might wanna’ add?” eren held a forced grin. there was no need to elucidate. he’d already caught on to what you were throwing down. you wanted him to forget about it. you wanted him to pretend like the brief moment of his lips on yours didn’t mean anything. he knows you’re confused, and so was he, but to deny the spark between you both in that moment would be ludicrous.

“well i…i haven’t really thought about anything else yet, but i’ll let you know when i do,” you stare into eren’s empty eyes for a few more seconds before he abruptly gets up and heads toward your bathroom. you watch as he snags a towel from your linen cabinet and runs it under the warm sink water.

he wrings it out, now bringing the towel over toward you ; who still sits up straight while watching him do all of this. he sits next to you, adjusting the towel in his palm, “open your legs, please.”

you were ineffable. completely silent, but slowly parting your thighs to allow him to gently wipe away the mess that streamed between them. you don’t say anything, and neither does he, but you both secretly cherish the feeling of his hands roaming your body.

a bit of time passes, and you fall asleep. you didn’t know how, but you’d ended up on the couch in eren’s arms — snuggled in close with your kuromi plushie between your arms as you dreamt of anything besides the events that took place tonight.

you drifted off easily, eren on the other hand, couldn’t spare to shut his eyes. there were too many questions without answers running through his mind for him to even think about sleeping at all.

in all of his years of knowing you, he’d never thought about you as anything more than a companion, a partner in crime, a best friend — but tonight revealed that narrative to be false. eren liked the feeling of your body against his. he liked to be able to navigate which spots made you weak in the knees.

he liked that he would be your firsts.

but to openly say those words aloud is forbidden. you were right, you were somewhat with connie. it wasn’t eren’s place to feel any type of way about how you felt.

you asked him to help you out, not fall for you.

so that’s exactly what he’d do. he’d give you what you want. he’d play the role until his help is unwanted, and although it’d ache him, that ache would be nothing compared to the ache of losing you as a whole.

eren takes a moment to look at your somnolent face, finding himself with the same tingly feeling he’d had when he kissed you earlier. his eyes bat as he finds himself in a daze, reaching his hand up to touch the side of your face, eren’s cracked voice conjuring up one last sentence before returning his focus to the tv.

“you’re gonna’ be the death of me, yn..”

©️ SATORUBI 2023 please do not copy, or repost as your own <33

tags : @sully-stick-together @lalalucidity

#OMG OMG KMG FIRST CHAP #posting this and immediately logging off because i’m scared #k bye i love u i hope u enjoy #please god i hope you enjoy #eren smut #eren x black reader #eren x reader #eren x fem!reader #eren yeager x reader #snk smut #snk eren

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joeshiestyslover · 3 months

Text

hotel room

pairing: cocky!joe burrow x reader

summary: you and joe have been hooking up for the past year, and joe wants to stop, but he just can’t and continues to string you along, so you make the choice for him

warnings: language, angst, slight smut

masterlist

a/n: i’m back???? also this is mad shitty, but it’s been a year, so i’m a bit rusty

the sound of your phone ringing is enough to wake you from your sleep. you roll over to face the nightstand and grab your phone. you check the time and it’s 3:13 am. who the fuck is calling me this late? you think. your question is answered when you check the caller id, joey<3 is in big white letters across the top of your phone screen.

“hello?” you answer. “you busy right now?” joe immediately asks. really? no greeting? “no joe of course i’m not busy at 3:15 in the morning.” “good. come over.” he demands. “didn’t you say the last time we did this that we couldn’t do it again?” you inquire. “i know what i said y/n. just one more time. please. i need you.” joe basically begs you. you sigh. “fine give me fifteen minutes.”

you slowly begin to get up from your bed and head to your bathroom. you brush out your hair and pull a claw clip from your drawer to put into your hair. you walk out of the bathroom and into your closet; you grab a pair of spandex booty shorts and an oversized tshirt. you find some socks and your air forces and slide them on your feet. you take one last look at yourself in the mirror before grabbing your phone, wallet, and keys and heading out the front door.

why do i do this to myself? you ask yourself every single time you leave to meet up with joe. you know how this ends; you hook up, he tells you it’s the last time, then you leave. it’s an endless cycle. he has you under his thumb, and no matter how hard you try, you can’t escape him.

the drive to joe’s place gives you the time to think about how you wound up here, driving in your car to go hook up with joe burrow.

you met joe at your friend’s bachelorette party which was at her favorite club. that night, joe was there with his teammates celebrating the bengals’ win against the chiefs. the moment he walked into the club his eyes were drawn to you immediately, and yours to his. about thirty minutes went by before he actually approached you.

you could feel the tension lingering in the air just begging to be released. joe asked you to go home with him and how could you say no? looking back on it now, you should have.

your thoughts are cut off by your phone ringing. you look at the caller id, and surprise surprise, it’s joe. “yes?” you answer. “where are you? you told me to give you fifteen minutes and it’s been twenty.” joe asks you. “joe i’m literally pulling up right now, calm down.” before he’s able to respond, you hang up and pull into his driveway.

you get out of your car and walk towards his front door, but before you can knock, the door swings open revealing a shirtless joe standing in front of you. you take a few seconds to admire him before he grabs your hand and pulls you into the house.

before you can even get a word in, he’s kissing you roughly, your tongues and teeth clashing together. “jump.” joe tells you breathlessly. you jump and wrap your legs around his waist, with his hand coming to rest on your ass. he begins to walk to his bedroom that you’ve become way too familiar with. joe kicks open the door and sits down on the bed, so you’re sitting in his lap. you mindlessly start to grind against his clothed cock.

joe breaks the kiss to look into your eyes. “you’re so beautiful, you know that?” he says to you, and you almost believe him. “joe please don’t say that.” “why not?” he asks you, confused. “because when you say things like that you make it so much harder to leave.” joe gives you a look you can’t decipher. “we both know you’re not gonna leave.” he smirks at you. “this is the last time joe i mean it. listen, there’s something i have to tell you.” you can’t look him in the eyes at this point. “what is it baby?” joe brings his hand up to hold your cheek. “i got a job offer in new york. it’s my dream job and it pays well, so i have to take it.”

joe stays silent for a few second before he moves you off of him so he can stand up. “so you’re leaving? just like that? you’re gonna throw everything we have away?” he says while beginning to pace back and forth. “everything we have? joe we’re fuck buddies! that’s all we are and that’s all we’ll ever be!” you raise your voice at him. “if you think we’re just fuck buddies then you’re fucking blind y/n!” “how am i blind joseph? please enlighten me!” you spit at him. “have you not noticed that every time you come over, i try to convince you to stay? i’ve offered to make you dinner, i’ve asked you to be with me on valentine’s day, i’ve tried everything to make you see that i’m in love with you!” the moment those words leave his mouth, you freeze. “you’re what?” “i’m in love with you y/n. i have been since the night i met you. every time you leave, i get this feeling that i hate. i don’t wanna be away from you.” he tries to step closer to you, but you don’t let him. “joe, no. don’t do this. don’t say you love me; we both know you don’t mean it. you’re only saying this because you don’t wanna lose the only girl that will be at your beck and call whenever you please.” you can feel the tears prickling at your eyes.

“what? no y/n. i love you. i really do. please stay in ohio, and let me prove it to you.” he begins to beg. “joe i can’t. we both know that we wouldn’t work. i’m sorry i can’t do this.” you stand up from his bed and walk out of his bedroom. you can hear joe’s footsteps following behind you. “y/n please don’t leave.” you don’t respond and continue walking towards his front door, but before you can open it, joe’s hand is on the doorknob. “don’t do this. don’t take that job. stay here with me, just give this a chance. please.” you find the courage to look up, and you see a tear going down his cheek. “joey listen, if you had told me this a long time ago, i would have given us a chance, and i wouldn’t take the job. it’s too late for us. i’m sorry joe, but i have to go.” he says nothing and lets go of the doorknob. you open the door and begin walking towards your car. the moment you get in and lock your doors, you break down. of course you’re in love with joe, but this is your dream job. you can’t let anything or anyone stand in the way of that, not even joe. you compose yourself and put your car into drive, not looking back. deep down you know you’ve made the right choice, but you can’t help but think about what could’ve been.

#joe burrow #joe burrow x reader #joe burrow imagine #joe burrow oneshot #joe burrow fic #joe burrow fan fic #joe burrow angst #joe burrow fluff #joe burrow smut #nfl #cincinnati #cincinatti bengals

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leclucklerc · 7 months

Text

Hard Carry CL16 - 02. Down Under

Pairings: Charles Leclerc x driver!reader

Summary: Conflict arises as a hotshot rookie decided that the current world champion is the next opponent to beat.

Word Count: 5.3k

Previous Masterlist Next

Y/n l/n is a superstar inside and outside of Formula One.

It's the way she smiles and crinkled eyes. It's the way she handle interviews with pr trained answers and cheeky quips here and there. It's the way that she always dress to impress, catching everyone attention, be it on the grid or even in fashion week.

It's the way she made winning looks so easy. How she made making into the podium is just a regular Sunday for her. How she would gave the spectators a race that can be remembered by them for the rest of their life.

By the time she finished up her first season, people had called her a superstar in the making. Awed by the sheer talent and grit that she seemed to have for the sport. Finishing third in the standings of 2012 Formula One season, people have to admit that they’re entering a new era in Formula One.

When she finished her second season in Formula One, she’s a certified superstar, evident from the driver championship that she had won that year. When she finished her third season in 2014, she became a legend as she won the driver championship for two straight times.

It’s almost as if everyone forgets all the slurs and bad things that they had called the female just a few years prior. As if, all of the negative press and criticism being directed towards her are nothing but an old news.

Maybe it’s because she finally proven herself that she can conquer the world of motorsport with her talent. Or maybe it’s just because people found more exciting things to talked and shit about. Who knows? Y/n certainly don’t.

Though, that doesn’t mean that the female forgets all the shitty things that happened to her when she first entered Formula One.

“She’s going to fuck half the grid,” said one commentator, ignoring the fact that the female is seventeen years old, and most drivers are in their mid to late twenties. “She’s going to ruin the sport.”

“A fucking barbie,” said another one. “That’s what she is.”

There are more. More things being said that’s downright horrifying and disgusting. She knows that no one cares about her age, that one of the ugly consequences of her entering a male dominated sport as a girl is the sexualization that she will eventually receive. But still, hearing all these things is gross beyond words.

Her sex life seems to be a favorite topic of them. Talks about she’s dating or fucking who, how she is seen talking with one driver and the next day a news station will say that she’s fucking him and ruining his family. Talks about her being a slut who parties too hard and a raging alcoholic for drinking alcohols during her downtime.

As if, her life is nothing, but a trainwreck of a circus show for them to watch and laughed upon.

It was during that horrible first season when y/n realized, that to be a champion you need to be an overall asshole.

A sick and twisted personality of hers that she always kept under her bright smiles and friendly front. It’s more to always have that competitiveness – on the track or off the track. To always have that fire and determination to always be the best. To actually believe and have the confidence to say that yes, I am the best driver in the grid. Yes, I make no mistake.

Be the best or be nothing. Show the world your worth or you will be worthless. The black and white view that you have to be so fucking successful or be nothing at all.

(It took y/n awhile to recognize that.)

The first time she realized it was when she won her first race in China. It was a close race, with her almost hitting a Mercedes and her own teammate. Back then – way too drowned in the euphoria of winning her first race – she doesn’t realize what that means to the people around her. Mainly, to other drivers on the grid.

There are a lot of drivers that came from a different time period. A period where Formula One has a rigid structure and strict unseen rules. For them, who had lives in that time period, y/n arrival and all the changes that she had brought, looks like a threat for them. A challenger who appeared to challenge their authority.

“If you drive that Porsche, anyone can win.”

“I don’t get it, she drives dangerously. She should’ve received a penalty for that.”

“I just don’t understand what the hell FIA is thinking! I know they’re all about diversity and inclusivity lately but-“

Y/n turned off the tv in front of her, face blank.

The phrase ‘never meet your heroes’ rang true inside of her head. Because hearing all of those things from her own childhood heroes is a bit tragic beyond doubt.

After all, these men are the people she had looked up to. They’re the reason why she wants to race in Formula One. They’re the reason why she have such a deep love for motorsport and why she’s trying her hardest to show all of them her capabilities.

Knowing the horrible and degrading things they called her should saddened her.

Though, instead, she doesn’t feel anything.

For a moment, she felt empty, as she sat there inside of her empty hotel room. She could hear chatters from the hallway outside, no doubt from the Porsche team who’s staying in the same floor as her. Besides that, everything felt a bit empty. And silent.

She just sat there, staring at the dark screen of the television in front of her. The euphoria of her earlier win had left without any trace.

Maybe it's because that she had gotten used to it. That these kind of talks is nothing new for her and slowly - but surely - had become a part of their daily life.

But no one deserves to live like this. No one deserves to be judged just because of their gender. No one deserves to have their skills and talent to be dismissed just because they don't have an extra weight between their legs.

Y/n, doesn't deserve this.

And in one second, that empty feeling was replaced by anger.

What right do they have to say things like that?

What right do they have to judge her life and talent like that?

Some never even won a race in their life! Or even get into the podium! Some even drive for shitty teams that have a brick of a car. A mid-tier driver that doesn’t have enough talent for the bigger teams. Now, just because they lost to a girl almost half their age, they think they have the right to talk shit to her?

So fucking funny. It almost made her laugh.

Barbie, slut, whore, the downfall for Formula One.

Honestly, it was frustrating that there are some older drivers that won’t accept their loss. It was more frustrating to hear all of their declarations that if they were also put inside y/n’s Porsche, they can drive better than her.

All that talks that questioned her ability just because of her age and gender. All of the talks that keep underestimating her over and over again.

Maybe that’s why she turned up like this, to have this kind of twisted and sick personality.

“Y/n,” started Herman as he introduced the young man besides him. She almost get a sense of déjà vu at the image. After all, this happened almost every year. Herman calling her to a meeting room just before the pre-season testing. Herman, introducing her to her newest teammate of the year.

Tall, blond, blue eyes. Probably some kid they picked off of F2 or other racing category randomly. She wonder how long this kid will last. How long, will it take for him to blow his gasket off.

“This is Henry Santos, your newest teammate,” said the older man as he gestured towards the male. He looked around y/n age and got starry eyed as he stared at y/n.

Typical, y/n almost scoffed out. It’s the same routine every year.

Almost immediately, she plastered a smile. It was so wide and so immediate. To the point it’s almost fake. “Hi,” she grinned. “Nice to meet you, I’m y/n l/n.”

Henry also nodded, excitement radiating off of him. “I know,” he said. “I’m a big fan.”

“That’s sweet,” she answered before turning her head towards Herman. “So, team briefing?”

Herman as well as other employee for Porsche immediately ushered them inside one of their meeting room in their motorhome. Talks about plans, the cars, and the upcoming season began as y/n listened to it attentively.

The same thing could be said to Henry as the kid could be seen writing a lot of things on his notebook, from his gaze, she could see how serious he is.

It’s the same look that she sees every year.

Kids being picked by Porsche for the position of their second seat. Kids, who was hoping to be able to stay in Porsche – one of Formula One top team, contenders for the championship – for more than one year.

Kids, who salivated at the thought of taking y/n’s seat.

She always blame her horrible experiences in the grid for this twisted personality of her. This kind of competitiveness, the urgency to always see as if they’re her rivals. The ability to unable see anyone as anything but competitors for her seat as uncertainty eats up her heart and whispered words that made her doubt everyone.

Sometimes, she felt a bit guilty, considering a lot of these kids, when they first entered Porsche, are good kids. Someone that just want to left their marks in Formula One.

But everyone wants to leave their marks in Formula One.

Everyone, wants to be the world champion.

Y/n included.

With three world titles under her name, it only made her hungrier for the title of the world champion. Some called her greedy, some called her over ambitious, but y/n thinks that’s just normal. When you taste the taste of winning once, there’s no going back. She's sure that Lewis and Sebastian shared the same feeling.

After that high of being the world champion, there is no way they want to lose it. The taste of winning is addicting after all. It's a dangerous drug to every driver. Once you taste it, you will always want more.

The same thing could be said for her teammates for the past few years.

If you’re in a Porsche, you will be part of the top team. You will fight for wins and podiums. It’s hard, to let it go, for your teammate. No matter how amazing they are.

She guess she has to be grateful that she’s the number one driver in the team.

The Formula One season started soon after that, kicking it off in Australia. Just like every year, Herman will force her to get along with her teammate, shoving them inside of the same private plane and made them do various media activities together.

Contrary to popular belief, she really doesn’t mind. Henry seems like a good kid. A bit nervous, a bit starry eyed. Nothing that she can’t handle. All of their media responsibilities ended for the day before it was time for them to do their driver briefing.

“You seem to get along with your new teammate,” called out a new voice, effectively catching her attention during her journey towards the briefing room. Henry had said that he needs to take some things back in their motorhome first, making y/n doing the journey alone.

“Maxie,” greeted y/n with a grin.

The so called ‘Maxie’ frowned. “Don’t call me that,” he said. She could see an entourage of Red Bull employees all around him, no doubt protecting Christian’s very own prodigy from whatever danger he could have inside a guarded area.

Daniel couldn't be seen near him. It made her remember all the hushed talks about the Aussie contract renewal with Red Bull.

The woman laughed. “Aw, is little Maxie mad?” she said as she slung an arm around his shoulder – which is a feat itself considering he’s taller than her. “Don’t be that way to your best friend.”

“You’re not my best friend.”

“We so are!”

Years ago, back in 2015, when a kid called Max Verstappen joined Formula One, y/n felt that it was her duty to guide the lost little lamb. Or maybe it’s just her excuse to bully the new rookie.

You really can’t blame her for that. After all, she had been the youngest kid on the grid for years. She debuted when she was barely 17, she doesn’t even have a normal driving license. So that’s why when she first saw Helmut Marko newest golden boy, she thought that it was her time to be the reliable guy on the grid and helped Max to adjust to the Formula One lifestyle.

Which had not been going pretty well, considering Max is not the cutest kid on the planet – he broods, like a lot. Also Christian is basically in love with the kid. He’ll probably sell his own family for Max.

She was not even surprised the slightest when it was announced that he and Kyvat will do a driver swap back in 2016. Controversial but interesting. She likes it.

“Ah, is that the Netflix crew?” said y/n as she waved towards the camera near them as they walked towards the briefing room. “Sorry babes, no camera during the briefings.”

“They know that,” muttered Max. “They just like following us around.”

“Ooo, spicy, stalker much, eh?”

A Red Bull employee actually chocked out a laugh at that and y/n count that as a win. The walk towards the briefing room is uneventful and was filled with small talks between her and Max. Some of the employees would chimed in, giving their own opinion or remarks but it’s pretty boring mostly.

It didn’t take long for them to arrive at the room.

Surprisingly, the first thing that she saw is a familiar pair of green eyes.

“Ah,” she said, stopping a bit in order to not bump into the male in front of her. “Charles,” greeted the woman good-naturedly. “You’re pretty early.”

Charles who came from the opposite direction, flushed a bit at that. He still got his pretty face which is nice. “I- uh, I don’t want to be late,” he replied.

“A good mindset,” she said, giving him a thumbs up. “Anyway, have you met-“

“Charles,” greeted Max, with a nod of his head.

Charles too, gave him a nod. “Max.”

Both of them stared at each other silently at that, as if they're in the middle of sizing up each other before a battle. And maybe they are.

Y/n blinked. There seems an odd tension between the pair. “You guys know each other?” she asked, as the three of them enter the room. The female immediately sat at front.

Max, who decided to sit next to her, shrugged. “We met a lot during karting,” he answered, as if that explained the thick tension between the two of them.

“Yes,” replied Charles as he sat at her other side. “We often race against each other.”

“Ah,” she said. “Rivals huh? Neat.”

The door opened again at that, signalling the arrival of another set of drivers.

“Playing nice with the babies, y/n?” laughed Sebastian Vettel, clad in the familiar but still obnoxious red of Ferrari. She could see Kimi walking in alongside him, though just as usual, the man merely greeted her with a nod of his head before he take a seat behind them.

“For real,” she answered. “Gotta protect these kids hopes and dreams.”

“This is my fourth season,” argued Max back.

“Babies,” said y/n again.

Sebastian answered that with a laugh before he greeted Charles with small greeting and a pat on his back. It’s obvious that they had met beforehand.

Slowly after that, more and more drivers appeared as low chatters began amongst themselves. Y/n was mainly occupied with both Charles and Max, though sometimes other drivers would greet her or chimed their opinion or two.

“Okay ladies and gentlemen,” started the man from FIA as he stood at the front of the room. “Let’s start the briefing. Is there any concern?”

And that officially starts the 2018 Formula One season.

The first time Charles ever saw y/n, was back in 2012.

It was the year where many things happened. He was entering almost the end of his karting days, looking for sponsors and teams who would want to support him for the higher categories. It was the year where he almost questioned his decision to be a racing driver.

It was the year, where he realized that a future in Formula One is something that not everyone can reach.

To Charles back then, 2012 was one of the hardest year for his racing career. At the end of 2011, his father had confide to him that they’re running low on funds. That supporting his very expensive hobby will be harder and harder to do. It had stumped him, a realization about the harsh reality of the world.

Charles will be always grateful for Jules and all of his help after that. After all, without the man, he’s not sure if he will able to continue racing.

It was also the year where he found himself idolizing a new driver in Formula One.

He first noticed her in a magazine. Charles doesn’t even know why did he picked that magazine all those years back. Maybe it was because she’s the only female in the stack of motorsport magazines. Maybe it was because she’s standing in front of a Formula One car, her face plastered on the cover with a headline that he will never forget.

"Youngest Race Winner in Formula One, y/n l/n," could be seen staring back at him. Behind that, in a font that is a bit smaller, the magazine too had added, 'The First Female Driver to ever won a Formula One Race.'

There’s something fierce and intimidating on her face as she stared back at her. It was as if she’s telling the world that she’s a winner. That she had arrived in the Formula One scene with one goal in mind.

To win.

Charles flipped open the magazine and began reading the article being dedicated to the female. About her passion, about her journey so far, and about her team. It is safe to say, that he was hooked ever since then.

As someone that wants to become a Formula One driver, it's only normal to follow the latest news regarding the sport. About the teams, or maybe the junior programs and opportunities that they had that can help his karting career. The arrival of Porsche back in 2012 was a really big moment for any fans of motorsport, so is y/n's arrival at the paddock.

For months, or even for the whole season, what people could talked about in the karting track is about the female. Oftentimes, she's an object of awe and reverent. As someone that started to break many boundaries that's being placed on the sport. Other times, she's an object of mockery and disapproval. Mostly due to her unconventional way to get her seat.

Honestly, back then, he also felt a bit apprehensive at that. After all, wouldn’t it be nice if he also came from a wealthy family that can just buy a whole Formula One team to support his dream? He wouldn’t have to work as hard as he is now, he wouldn’t have to desperately try to find sponsors or teams who would give him a bit of their time.

Maybe, if he came from a wealthy family, Arthur won’t have to give up karting.

That subject is still a sore spot for him. He knows that karting is an expensive sport, he knows that there is no way that his family can support two people karting at the same time. He knows, that he should be grateful that he’s the one being chosen for the investment.

But still, even after years, the guilt just won’t left him.

It’s the way he could see Arthur’s eyes dimmed a bit when he came for his races. It’s the way he would sometimes brought Charles’s old kart and use it in a track late at nights – thinking that no one will notice. His little brother is still as supportive as ever, cheering for him and wholly opened for discussions about his races, but Charles is not stupid. He can see how hurt Arthur was.

And well, that served as more than enough motivation for him to race as hard as he can.

That reservation that he has for y/n l/n instantly disappeared as he watch the course of Formula One 2012 season. To him back then, it was really amazing for someone so young – only two years older than him – to be able to enter the pinnacle of racing and absolutely dominates the scene.

He watched the videos of her maiden win at the Chinese Grand Prix. He had obsessed over the overtakes that she did in Bahrain Grand Prix. That’s why, when the Monaco Grand Prix came around, he found himself watching it from the balcony of his friend apartment.

The Grand Prix weekend had always brought a lot of fanfare. From the literal reconstruction of roads to the festive mood that people in Monaco seems to have, the Grand Prix weekend is something that Charles had always looked forward to.

“You seems more excited than usual,” said his friend, leaning forwards to his balcony railings. From their position here, he can almost heard the loud cheering from the grandstand or even the hustle and bustle that the Grand Prix seems to always brought to Monaco.

I’m going to race there one day, he thought, just like the years before. I’m going to be a Ferrari driver and I’m going to win the Monaco Grand Prix.

“Well,” started the Monegasque. “I have a new favourite driver.”

His friend raised his eyebrow. “Alonso?” he asked. “No, is it Felipe Massa?”

Charles shook his head. “Nah,” he denied. “L/n.”

At that, his friend stared at him. “Huh,” he finally let out. “It’s kind of weird not seeing you cheer for Ferrari.”

“I always cheer for Ferrari,” corrected Charles. “It’s just that I have another favourite driver on the grid.”

“Mhm,” hummed his friend. “Not surprised though.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Why?”

“Cause you’re active in karting and all,” said the male.

Charles blinked. “What do you even mean by that?”

“Like she’s a female and she’s one of the top driver,” explained his friend. “I just think that it would be obvious for guys like you – those who actively pursue racing as their career – to have some kind of crush to her.”

Crush?

And- and that stumped him.

It almost made him remember all of the things being said towards y/n. All the weird comments about her being a female or her attractive appearance. How she is more marketable and can play with the male fantasy and that it gave her an advantage compared to her other male counterparts.

How sexualized she is by everyone in the media.

He doesn’t like that.

Why is people talking about her gender when she made that insane overtake last race? Why is people talking about her in such a sexualized way when she’s literally the youngest race winner that Formula One had ever had?

All of them saw her as if she’s an object. As if, she’s in Formula One just to fuck around the grid and leave. They didn’t see her as the driver who won the China Grand Prix. They didn’t see her as the driver who got P2 in her debut race. They didn’t see her as a driver that has any worth for their attention and respect.

It was a bit of a horrifying realization.

He knows that the world of motorsport has its own values and ideals. How people think that it’s a sport only for men and a job as a racing driver is something exclusive to someone who has balls between their legs.

“No,” he replied, hand tightening around the railing. “I don’t like her just because of that.”

Because the woman is more amazing than that. He knows that she’s attractive. Anyone who has a pair of working eyes can see that. But that’s not the only reason why he put her in a pedestal so high.

He likes her because she’s only two years older than him and she’s already a race winner. He likes her because she won’t back down from all the shitty things that the media had said about her ever since her debut. He likes her because she fights for the championship against drivers with an infinite experience and skills. Charles likes her because she’s an amazing driver. Charles likes her, because she has the skills to back up her seat in Formula One.

Not because-

A black Porsche car zoomed past him.

Not because-

He watched her finishing the race at fourth in Monaco.

Charles likes her, because she’s someone that is changing the sport.

She’s someone more amazing than how the media is portraying her. A fighter, someone that’s fighting for her voice to be heard.

His idol.

From that on, he followed her career attentively. His family called it obsession but he likes to call it admiration. From her maiden driver championship in 2013, to her third one in 2017, he had followed it all.

He watched her win three championships. He watched her break countless records. He watched her turned all of those criticisms into words of adorations and worships.

A legend. A superstar. The best driver on the grid.

It had served as an amazing motivation for him to pursue his career in Formula One. Especially during darker times in life where he had questioned his place in the sport so many times. After loss and loss, the female had always became some sort of motivation for him to continue his racing career.

So after winning F2 and being offered a seat in Sauber, he was excited.

That offer had been a testament of his skill, that someone finally acknowledge him. That offer had made the lie that he had told his dad before his passing a truth, that the guilt won’t eat him up once more. That offer had made the dream that he had held for so long a reality.

That offer had made him even closer to y/n.

When Fred had offered him to meet the female during the pre-season testing he had took up the offer in an instant.

The phrase ‘never meet your heroes’ is something that he would like to disagree because meeting y/n is like a dream come true. She’s Charming and witty. A hard worker and attentive to whatever nonsense he said during their meeting. Y/n is just so nice, just like how he imagine her to be.

Charles almost tripped himself when she asked for his number after that because holy shit-

Somehow, after that meeting, he convinced himself that they stood at an equal ground. That after years and years of blood, sweat, and tears, Charles finally found himself on an equal ground with his idol.

He had never been so wrong.

He looked up, and he could see the female stood in front of the podium in front of him. Her smile bright, as she sprayed champagne towards Sebastian and Lewis who respectively stood at the second and third place.

It’s 2018 and it’s the Australian Grand Prix.

It’s 2018, and Charles saw the person that he had idolized for a long time won a race that Charles also participates in.

It was almost surreal to see her like this. To see the woman he had chatted with at the Porsche hospitality a few weeks ago to the woman who just won the first race of the season. The three of them – y/n, Sebastian, and Lewis – looks almost unreal to him.

The top drivers in the grid. The three world champions.

The best of the best.

His own 15th position on the grid stings a bit. Which is a bit unreasonable because he drives a Sauber. There is no way a Sauber could defeat cars from the top teams. Him, being a 15th position in a Sauber should be a pretty good achievement already.

But alas, it just doesn’t feel enough.

When they had chatted during the pre-session testing, it had gave him a fake illusion about them being an equal. After all, Charles is a Formula One driver now. He drives in the pinnacle of motorsport. He had shown the world that he’s capable to be a Formula One driver. Just like what he had dreamt of for years.

Today, is a harsh wake up call.

Y/n had looked so friendly and attainable that it gave him a false sense of hope that they stood on the same ground. Maybe it’s the euphoria of being promoted to F1 or maybe it’s the euphoria of managing to meet the woman that he had idolized for so many years.

Seeing this, her being at the top of the rankings while him, at the bottom, is a harsh reality check for him.

Because they’re not equal.

She’s still the faraway star that he can’t reach and he’s still the silent admirer that doesn’t have the courage to reach for her.

He’s still Charles Leclerc and she’s y/n l/n. Formula One superstar and legend.

If he want her to look at him, to make sure that she remember his name, then he has to be better. He has to prove that he will worth her time.

Drive to Survive Season 1 Episode 3

It’s all about Porsche.

“It seems like a curse,” laughed Christian. “No one can hold off the second seat of Porsche for more than two years.”

A montage of past drivers could be seen. In some clips, a younger y/n could be seen standing or talking with the past drivers. It’s clear that these people are the previous holder of Porsche’s second seat.

“I think that it’s a known secret,” started Will as he stared at the camera. “While y/n portrays herself as a fun loving and charming woman, it’s clear that she is really strict and competitive towards her teammate.”

Y/n and Henry could be seen at that, the both of them entering a Porsche car. From how it looks, it seems that the both of them are going to the track together from their hotel. Henry could be seen wearing the standard Porsche polo shirt while y/n in wearing an oversized Porsche racing jacket and a sports bra underneath it.

“Are you driving?” asked the female, raising her eyebrows from behind her sunglasses.

“Sure,” said the male as they both entered the car, “I can drive.”

“Well if you can’t drive all of us are fucked,” answered the female as she sat on her seat. Y/n sitting at the front while two of their staff sat the back.

“Are you excited?” asked the staff as they made their way. “It’s your debut race.”

“I am,” laughed Henry. “There’s a lot of expectations that came with being a Porsche driver.”

During this conversation, y/n doesn’t seems interested in the conversation as she scrolled on her phone silently. The show made it more dramatic as they show a scene where there’s some kind of awkward silence inside the car.

After that, both y/n and Henry could be seen entering the grid. The female are laughing and taking pictures as well as giving autographs to her fans. From this image, we could see how much of a superstar the female is. Though, as they continue their way, the female could be seen greeting other employees and other drivers in a friendly way while Henry could be seen looking confused at the back.

A rookie and a superstar. A very different image.

“It’s not a bad trait to have,” clarified Will. “Because in order to be a world champion, you have to be competitive. In this sport, your first rival should always be your teammate. After all-“

Two Porsche could be seen racing against each other.

“-You have the exact same car-“

A team radio could be heard between Henry and the race engineer who’s ordering for the male to do a pitstop.

“-the same team strategy-“

A scene of two Porsche crashed into each other could be seen.

“And the same competitiveness to show that you’re the best driver on the team.”

The scene changed back into the interview room as Henry Santos appeared. His name could be seen besides him and his position as Porsche driver are written underneath it.

“My name is Henry Santos and I race for Porsche Royale Formula One team,” answered the male smoothly. A question was being asked offscreen as Henry could be seen listening and blinking before he let out a laugh. “Yes, there are a lot of pressure, considering this is my rookie year.”

On the screen, the standings from 2017 could be seen where Porsche won the constructor championship and y/n winning the driver championship. Henry voice too, could be seen as a voiceover, “Porsche is a winning team,” he said. “I want to be someone that can honour that ambition.”

“Do you think you can become the number one driver in Porsche?” asked the producer.

Henry’s smile froze as there’s a stretch of silence after that question.

It’s clear that Netflix wants some kind of drama from that question. The fight of Porsche’s number one driver position. A rookie versus the world champion.

“Yes,” he finally answered. “Yes I believe I can.”

It was almost like a declaration of war. After all, y/n is the reigning world champion. She’s the one that’s using the number one on her car this year. A consistent driver that always shows a remarkable performance each year.

For a rookie like Henry to say that, it’s a bold claim to have.

“A conflict,” said Christian as he appeared once again. “Will bound to happen in a team like that.”

Taglist!

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runningupthatvecna · 1 year

Text

the law of seat partners

alrighty so ya gurl had a dream about eddie last night and here i am trying to use that to base the following something off of.

part 2

cw/tw: eddie munson being a slightly touchy precious bean. a slight bit of angst. feeling left out/mentions of feeling unwanted if you squint. otherwise, none that i could think of, just my silly brain fluff. if you find something else, please let me know yaaa. no mentions of y/n.

summary: you're going on a high school field trip with your friends. and thankfully, a long haired metalhead is also there to keep you company and ease the pain of being around obnoxious children.

side note: this is literally the first fic thing i've written in literal YEARS (also in English) and first ever time writing for Eddie, so bare with me here, i've gotten quite rusty i guess so i truly apologise if it's rather bad. don't mind me and please reblog/leave me comments if you did enjoy this pure fluff something!

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It was the sunniest May morning the town of Hawkins had ever seen. The bluest sky above the forests and fields, downtown, the infamous trailer park and the parking lot of Hawkins High.

You sighed as you placed your car in parking mode before opening the door and sliding out, just so you could grab your belongings - a rather big bag filled with all sorts of items that you were certain you were going to need for surviving the next week - out from the backseat.

A field trip with students with an age range from bloody twelve to the wise years of nineteen, well, twenty to be specific, was on your agenda in the almost last month of your last year of high school, and thankfully you were not gonna be stuck in some forest next to Lake Superior alone by yourself.

Being forced to exist around screaming twelve year olds who were about to enter puberty was your least favourite part of the whole expedition, which made the presence of your group of best friends so much more valuable.

There was one person whose attendance you'd specifically been hoping for. And yes, of course you and your friends had been talking about the trip months ago so it would be clear who would join in the fun, but with Eddie's tendency to be flaky when it came to decisions like this, one could never be fully sure.

I mean yeah, certainly you were looking forward to spending this week by the lakeside with Steve, Robin, Nancy, Jonathan and the younger kids in freshmen year, but nothing could make the thought of being stuck with a group of middle schoolers and teachers more bearable than being stuck there with the one guy who you - to put it frankly - had a thing for.

You couldn't really say that you were as close with him as you were with Steve or Robin, you never really spent time with him outside of the group hangouts. But that didn't mean that there was any weird distance between the two of you when the lucky occasion of hanging out did come around.

Eddie Munson was a metalhead. Through and through. Tough exterior, soft baby cow personality but could turn stone cold when necessary. When people tried to shame him for being different, for example.

You were also very certain that his love language was touch, based on the times he would throw his arm around you when casually walking you to your next class or the way he would playfully wrestle Dustin or Lucas in the cafeteria during lunch break to show he didn't hate them.

"Oh my god, I'm so glad you're here!"

Max had spotted you in line and apparently didn't feel too much guilt for cutting it just so she could hop on the bus together with you.

You mumbled the same thing back to her, wondering if you were the first or last ones of your party to go through Miss Kelley's check-in.

She greeted the both of you with a toothy smile before she turned her focus onto the sheet with students' names. Your eyes wandered over the rows of seat pairs, and since you had arrived at the parking lot, let's say not late but also not early either, most of them were already filled with loudly chatting kids.

"Hopefully the others saved us a seat", you heard Max say from in front of you. Unlike you, she already had a pre-determined seat buddy. "Oh please, it's obvious that Sinclair kept one for you", you quipped back, silently hoping you could potentially be sitting next to Steve or at least Robin.

And even if Eddie was going to join you, he'd probably be sitting with Chrissy. Or Gareth.

"That might be true, but I'm sure you'll be just fine with where you'll end up."

Max stepped further into the bus after she gave you a wink and a slight grin.

Did she know more than you?

Good boy Steve was rather easy for you to spot. With that amount of hair peeking out above the sea of headrests? No wonder. In fact, most of your friends were already seated further in the back of the one-story bus.

A slight hint of disappointment clouded your brain at the sight of Steve and Robin sharing a seat pair, with Nancy and Jonathan right behind them. Your fear of being the one left out and behind was creeping out from the back of your mind, acting up.

People had always been kind enough to endure you, but no one ever really chose you. Or at least made you feel like you belonged.

Lucas indeed had the seat next to him reserved for Max, to where she continued her strut down the aisle to plop down, while Dustin and Will had agreed to share theirs.

Surprising they made it out of bed this early.

You took a few more steps towards the back of the bus. A wide grinned Erica was seated amongst her friends in the center of the very back row, your eyes scanning the seats until they landed on the wild dark mane of a certain metalhead, who was occupying the pair of seats right behind the stairs down to the back door.

He was practically lying in the window seat. Head resting against the glass, staring out to observe the students who hadn't set foot onto the bus yet. Parents who were lecturing their kids one last time before letting them go.

Was he daydreaming? What could possibly be going on in that pretty head of his?

Your heart jumped and your stomach fluttered when he shifted his gaze to the aisle where you were standing. The widest smile spread over his face at the sight of you, and you hated to admit to yourself that it did not leave you unaffected.

The seat next to him was empty.

It took Eddie a few seconds to remember what his initial plan was. As if something in his brain clicked, as if a bolt of lightning had hit him, he straightened himself and got up.

"Uh hi there. I, uh, kept you a seat if, uh, in case you'd like to sit with me."

Eddie the freak Munson. Had thought of and would be willing to sharing seats for a 10 hour bus ride. With you, of all people?

In the light of the sunlight flooded bus, you could see his cheeks adjusting to the colour of your own. Flushed pink.

And you just couldn't help the wide grin that was pulling at the corners of your mouth.

Now both of you were standing in the aisle facing each other.

"I would love to, Munson."

Quickly you took out the essentials for the journey from your bag: headphones and your walkman, your tape collection that you wouldn't leave the house without, a novel, some water and a tote bag with your carefully selected snacks.

Eddie waited patiently for you to get comfortable, standing there in the aisle in his signature leather jacket and denim dio vest, while leaning against the backrest of his own seat, watching your every move.

Once you swung yourself around into your seat, Eddie plopped down next to you with an equally wide grin plastered across his face while pointing his ringed index finger at the snack bag.

"You know, you're gonna have to share those with me."

You turned your head around to face him, eyebrow raised.

His chocolate brown doe eyes were so so softly looking at you. If you didn't know better they'd melt you on the spot.

"Oh really, do I?"

"Yeah, it's the unspoken yet official law of seat partners, sweetheart."

You chuckled at his silliness and the pet name, the nervousness which you had gotten from the thought of him very obviously thinking of you when it came to the decision of who to sit next to, all gone.

He wanted to be physically close to you.

He wanted to spend that time on the bus around you.

He chose you.

After Steve, Robin and all the others from your group had acknowledged your presence as well with genuine smiles, and the last few kids had found their seats, it was time to leave Hawkins.

The bus hit the highway towards Chicago pretty soon after departure.

Eddie let you sit in the window seat, which eventually led to him conveniently using your shoulder as a pillow. And no, you didn't mind the weight. It was Eddie.

Hell, you were having a hard time keeping yourself from wrapping your arms around him to pull him closer.

"Does this also fall under the law of seat partners?", you asked curiously, placing a hand on Eddie's head and slightly scratching his scalp.

The only thing you got in return was a satisfied, sleepy "mhm" and a squeeze and rub of his warm hand over your thigh, but it was enough for your mind to drift off, wondering which other of Eddie's love languages and further details of his ridiculous seat partner law you'd come to discover on this trip.

-----

tagged: my beloved ellen @josephfakingquinn <3

#eddie munson #nora writes #oh wow this turned out to be longer than expected #lol #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson x reader #eddie x reader #stranger things #stranger things fluff #eddie munson fluff #the law of seat partners

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romanoffsbish · 9 months

Text

Love is a Learning Curve

Past! Kate Bishop x GN!R

Yelena Belova x GN!R

Love is a Dagger (P1)

The long awaited P2 I was never going to give, but people wanted closure to the angst I guess 😂 | WC: 3,638

Kate woke up with a start, her body flopped back into the mattress regretfully, her arm covered her eyes to lessen the throbbing ache in her head. The blinds being open the root of the issue as the sun permeated into her already sensitive eyes. Drinking the night away was once an easy feat for the archer, but the closer she gets to the middle of her twenties the more she'd noticed it's losing its flair for fun.

——

Stumbling ungraciously out of bed she made her way to the bathroom and made herself a bit more human by taking a shower and getting dressed for work. Then she made her way downstairs to find nothing to eat, it threw her off because normally you'd have filled her up a thermos, and made her something to go, but she only shrugs, and rushes out the door to make sure she now had time to stop for a bite.

It wasn't all that strange an occurrence, on the rare occasion you did miss the opportunity to prepare her for her day, so she thought nothing of it, you were likely running late, and she assumed that had something to do with her partying last night so she didn't mind at all.

Her day flew by without any messages from you either, but she never checked them much anyway so she didn't notice. It wasn't until her phone rang on her way out of the office that she knew something must've been up.

"Hello?" she answered with slight hesitation, unsure on as to why the blonde was exactly calling her. "Kate Bishop, it's Yelena."

"Hey, yeah what can I do for you Yelena?"

"Are you coming to pick up Lucky?"

Kate's brows furrowed, because yes, technically Friday was her day to collect the dog from Belova's Doggy Daycare, but usually you just willingly picked up her slack. "Where's Y/N?"

The question was more so a thought she was having that ended up directed at Yelena, who simply cleared her throat, a sure sign that she knew something was up, but didn't wish to say.

"Yelena..." she was more desperate this time, and the blonde sighed, "Told me they were not going to be able to pick him up today, but I saw some suitcases and boxes in their car Kate."

"Oh."

"Yeah, they said today was your day to get him, but I guess it must've just slipped your mind," Yelena said with a nervous chuckle to follow, it was clear as day to the blonde that you just left your mutual friend without so much as a word shared, and though a part of her is rooting for you for finally putting yourself first for once, the other feels bad for the raven haired girl who's likely biting back tears at the news.

"Here, how about I take him home with me tonight. It's been awhile since him and Fanny had a playdate anyways."

"Thanks Lena, I'll get him in the morning."

That night Kate ordered in, and nursed a bottle of red wine until the buzz lulled her to sleep. When she awoke the following morning to find you'd yet to return her rose colored glasses fell.

Her strained eyes began to study the living room, and as she took it in she found any piece of you she once had was gone. All that had remained was a cherished framed photo of you, her and Lucky at Fanny's first birthday party.

Kate was racking her brain for a reason, anything she could come up with besides the glaring truth that she just didn't want to face. For the last year she'd been taking your love for granted, and it's true what they say: you don't know what you have until it's gone, and now she's just meant to live on like you don't exist.

The note you hid in your dresser drawer said just that when she stumbled up to your room.

"Dear Kit-Kat,

I'm sorry I couldn't face you, but it's best for us that I left without a trace. There's nothing left for us, you don't love me anymore, and I have held on to delusion for as long as I am willing.

If I had approached you I know you'd have tried to tell me I was wrong, that you did still love me, because your heart is too soft, and I would've clung to that hope until it failed me.

Love is a perilous thing really; I don't regret our journey, but I do regret staying this long. It's about time I set off to find what's out there for a loner like me, and for that reason I have disconnected my phone and gone off the grid.

I'll love you forever Kit-Kat, and I hope you are able to find someone who makes you happy, and who'll share their last slice with Lucky."

Kate's tears soaked through the crumpled paper, messy lines of blue ink began to run, distorting the message of half truths. Reading it hurt her tremendously, seeing that she'd made you believe she'd been stringing you along out of obligation, and not out of love was hard to read. It wasn't true, right? She loved you with all of her heart, but yet she took your presence for granted, and now she's all alone.

You actually left her (Just like she'd left you).

—

The archer had been neglecting her work for months as she scoured all over the city for you. Nothing was available to help her. You were apparently an expert at disappearing, because there wasn't a single trace of you anywhere.

It was pathetic really, she ran the most well known security and surveillance company around and yet she couldn't track you down.

With time, Kate realized that you were right.

The love she had for you faded until it was nothing more than words you say to protect the others feelings, but it also hadn't completely died. Kate was desperate to find you, to atone for all that she'd done to you by using you as her personal assistant instead of her lover.

Even if she lost touch with you, she knew that what she did likely distorted your view on love. The girl couldn't live with herself if she just left you to think that love is only a hopeless cause.

When things were young, and fresh it was like magic, and she wanted you to remember that. To look passed her betrayal, and the feelings of inadequacy she left behind in the hollowed heart that hardly beat in your chest anymore.

She needed you to know that her love for you might’ve devolved into the platonic, as is the case when people grow, but it’s still there In enough of a capacity that she won’t give up.

Kate was a mess, and in a way you were too.

You thought that getting a cottage out in the beautiful countryside of Norway was the way to go. Far away from the life you once lived, and the perfect place to enjoy your solitude. Then the loneliness set in against your will, and so you'd set off to find a furry companion.

At the shelter you saw a young pup that'd taken a liking to the elderly cat. He'd yap in her ear, and she'd purr in response, it was clear her ears were not functioning well anymore. You decided two for the price of one was great.

Simon showered you with love and affection whenever you entered the home, even if you'd only stepped out to get the mail. Then Posey, when she felt like jumping, would meet you in bed to cuddle and purr against your chest.

It worked, but only as a mask for the problem at hand really. Your foolish heart longed for a love like you'd once known. One full of passion and joy over the loveless mess it had become.

Still, you persisted and lived as if nothing was wrong. That was until Yelena had found you, and damn near broke your door off it's hinges.

"Y/N Y/L/N!" She shouted loud enough that you'd left the security of your room, blanket around your shoulders as you'd just woken up at her unexpected, rather rude interruption.

"How did you find me?" You groaned, and she ignored your question, opting to scour through your cabinets until she found some glasses. “Better yet, how did you even get inside?”

Yelena barked a laugh, insinuating that your question was ridiculous. Then she briskly swung her arm around and handed you a glass that was far too full of booze for a morning sip.

"It's nice to see you too, now drink the vodka, we have lots to discuss my dear old friend."

Yelena told you all about Kate's demise, and it broke your heart into pieces thinking she was actually this torn up about your departure. Then you remembered she relied on you to change her clothes some nights and the ache from being used had returned even stronger.

"If that's all, I think you should be going."

“Y/N, she wants you to come home.”

“This is my home Yelena, the only one I’ve ever known. Feel free to tell her that when you go back and offer her my location. Now go.”

You were being harsh with her, you knew that and most of you regretted it, but you also felt like you were being backed into a corner. As if Kate’s problems were always going to be yours.

“I understand leaving her, you deserved better, we all told you that.” Yelena pondered aloud, her voice uncharacteristically small. “But leaving all together? That was hard to stomach, I lost both of my closest friends in the blink. You off grid, and Kate to her grief. When is it enough passed on pain for you to forgive her?”

You went to lash out, to try and get her to see it from your end, but then you saw her hand shake as she gulped down the rest of her bitter vice without ever looking up. Not that she needed to, you could hear the sniffle she failed to cover up with the scuffing of her boots.

“I didn’t think I would be missed,” you softly admitted, your ties to Yelena, and the rest were through the connection of Kate. Never a part, only ever an extension of the friend group.

Or at least that’s what you had always thought.

“I felt your absence immediately,” she voiced though her voice quivered. “Your visit at the kennel every day was what made me smile.”

“I-.”

“There was no more happiness with you gone.”

The way she spoke made your heart warm with an affection you felt was foreign for her. There had never been any indication that she wanted you, or that you meant that much to her before.

“Yelena, what are you doing?” You stumbled back into the wall when you saw her rise to her feet faster than necessary. Her body out of her control, and under the influence of alcohol led her to stumble until she caged your body in.

“I wanted you first.” You were shocked to see the honesty in her eyes, booze goggles or not she was being sincere and you felt an urge to kiss her lips as they pouted familiarly. It was a common expression of hers whenever you’d have to go, you always thought it was for Lucky since she loved the retriever so much, but a part of you always wondered if it meant more.

But you had Kate… Even now, you had her to consider. “Lena, w-we can’t,” you stuttered as her cold hand held your face. “I understand.”

Before she could pull away with her wrong assumptions you wrapped your arms around her waist and buried your face into the crook of her neck. Yelena would never deny you comfort, not even when you just shattered her heart, so she hugged you back rather tightly.

“You’re going to be okay Y/N,” she whispered in her thick Russian accent, and your hammering heart felt like it was about to burst at the offered tenderness. “I’m here for you.”

You pulled away and cupped her cheeks with a teary smile, eyes shining with appreciation. Your lips pressed to her cheeks, and she looked at you utterly confused when your eyes met.

“I was saying, we can’t do this… yet.” Yelena’s eyes went wide and you kept your smile. “I can’t let you kiss me when I’m still trying to forgive Kate, it wouldn’t be fair to any of us.” Yelena’s heart beamed, the notion that all you felt for Kate now was a tainted love in need of a life altering cleansing made her hopeful.

“So you’ll come home?” You shook your head and wore a broken smile, fear encasing your heart as you realized you couldn’t do that. “I’ve built a life here Lena, I have space for you, but I can’t return to the stagnation of the states.”

“No, I know that,” Yelena refuted. “I just mean to make the amends with Kate Bishop, and to collect my things and Fanny who’s at Kate’s.”

“Does she know you’re here?” She shook her head. “No, but I think she knows deep down.”

“What about the kennel?” Yelena shrugged, and smiled wide. “I’ve got nothing in the states worth living for if you’re not by my side.”

“Then I will agree to a half day in New York.”

Yelena squealed and you cupped your ears while glaring in her direction playfully.

“I’ll be back for you in the morning then Y/N! We have Tony’s private jet, and Happy’s at the hotel I’m going to be staying at tonight.”

“You’ll do no such thing, I have a guest room. I’ll just have to clean it of the cat hair since I don’t usually have other humans over.”

“You sound like you’re an alien,” she laughed, then began to head to the door to collect her bag, and that’s when it dawned on you. “How’d you find me?” Yelena stood in the doorway with a knowing smirk on her face, and tossed her thumb backwards to the people outside.

“I guess we’re sharing a bed then,” you mused while waving back to the grinning redheads. Of course, she involved the FBI’s hottest couple.

—

The following morning came with butterflies fluttering beneath the pads of fingertips that lightly pressed into the skin that your crumpled up night shirt had left exposed. Yelena’s body was pressed into yours so tight you were sure there’d be a layer of sweat amongst the fabric.

“Good morning pretty one,” Yelena rasped, her voice thick with sleep, and Russian inflections. The butterflies must’ve began a rave because you could hardly focus on anything but the way that her simple words made your stomach flip. “Goor morning darling, are you hungry?”

“I’ll make breakfast,” she announced, body scrambling for the door, but fortunately for the sake of your cottage Wanda was there with a teasing smile and greasy spatula. “No need Miss. burns houses down while making eggs.”

“It was one time!” Natasha snorted from a far away room, “Yeah, one time too many! Mama was so mad about it that she moved back to Russia the second you turned eighteen.”

Yelena turned back towards you and ran into your open arms. You could feel her pout against your skin, and for a second you were imagining her firmly kissing the skin instead.

“They are so mean. I am happy to leave.”

“We’ll visit them,” you answered the silent question, as sarcastic as she was, you knew that her sisterly love for Natasha was unbreakable. The same could be said in reverse, those two have been inseparable since you first met them.

“Okay, thank you.” You ran a hand up and down her back for a few seconds, then the sound of your rumbling tummy brought you both to the dining area where the food was still piping hot. “You two could move in as well.”

Natasha threw you a glance that said she’d do it in a heartbeat, but Wanda was less inclined seeing as their kids, and Pietro were in the city.

“We’ll visit, I promise,” was all she offered, then silence followed as you all got ready to go, and made your way to the airport. Once on the jet you chose to lean against the blonde, and take a nap to silence the screams of your mind.

At the airport you hugged the couple goodbye, and let Natasha threaten you as any good big sister would when you were taking her little sister across borders after one day of being sort of involved. The redhead knew that she could trust you, it’s not like you were strangers, but she was also the one who once held a crying Yelena when you fled the country, and once prior when Kate asked you to be hers first.

Once the lot of you parted ways Yelena drove you over to Kate’s. You told her to go get her stuff, and though she was hesitant she knew you had to do this part all on your own.

You knocked on the familiar door, it was a hair too light as your fist had stalled mid thrust. It still managed to gather the woman’s attention though because it swung open before you could even begin to knock again. Kate’s body crashed into yours, and you reflexively caught her and held her as she cried loudly into your chest.

Without a moment’s hesitation you brought your conjoined bodies back over her threshold and guided her onto her couch. Kate wanted to hold on, but you left no room for her to try. A moment of comfort was all you could spare, and she knew it was selfish to expect more.

It was silent, Kate stared at you as you sat in the recliner you’d had to swipe debris from.

“I’m sorry.” You pursed your lips, humming a low tune as you absorbed her empty words.

“For who?” Kate flinched at your response, it’d been ages since she last heard your voice, and the chill it carried now was heartbreaking.

“You,” her lower lip trembled, and your anger softened a smidge at her obvious remorse.

“If I’d realized what I was doing, I wouldn’t have ever let it get so far that you felt like you had to run away from your entire life.”

“I didn’t run away from my life, I happily left yours Kate. Nothing about tending to your every whim was a life I ever dreamed up. Did you ever consider that the only thing I was running away from was you? That life with you had become so difficult that I had no choice but to drop off the face of the Earth and retire?”

“You are making it seem like I ordered you around,” she bit back, a bit offended by the animosity you’re throwing. “You willing fell into a role that never should’ve been. You were my partner, I know what I did was fucked up, but I would never have hurt you on purpose. Let’s not forget that you never said anything. Just left me a note one day and vanished.”

Silence fell as you were faced with the other side of the truth. You stayed and lived with the hurt of being forgotten, but in another turn you never fought to be seen either. Literally, there was never even a discussion, you just handled business separately, and cared for her wholly.

A relationship without communication is nothing more than two bodies out of sync.

“You’re right,” your tense shoulders deflated, and tears that fell from your eyes were wiped away by a gruff tongue trying to comfort you. “Hey Lucky boy, how have you been?”

“He misses you.”

You pet him for a very long time, trying your best to calm your nerves before you were to face her again in the less tumultuous light.

“I still love you Y/N, no longer romantically, but there’s still so much of me that loves you.”

Her words of a love never lost were actually comforting, hitting a nerve that very well would’ve been catastrophic just a day prior.

“I’ll love you forever Kit,” you gazed into her eyes, and smiled warmly, “You taught me so much, and when it was good there was no questioning that love had a purpose in life. I hope you find someone worth remembering.”

With your peace found you stood up, and, and pulled her into a strong embrace. The two of you swayed for a few seconds, then you pulled away and headed for the door.

“I’ll never forget you Y/N, I’m sorry I ever did.”

Kate watched as you picked up a green leash, and her mind caught up fast. “I hope you two are happy together. Invite me to the wedding please, I wouldn’t want to miss such a joy.”

You smiled to yourself while hooking the leash to Fanny, and left the apartment with a final lighthearted comment. “I’ll try not to forget.”

Kate smiled too, and fell back onto her couch.

There’s no one right way to love someone else, but you both knew that near the end of things you only loved the other in shades of wrong. As you drove back to the airport, your hand in another’s you realized that giving up was never the answer, but at the time it was necessary.

Love is a twisted game, sometimes you lose, sometimes you win, but no matter what, either outcome came with a journey of life lessons.

——

#natasha romanoff #wanda maximoff #wandanat #kate bishop #kate bishop fic #kate bishop angst #kate bishop imagine #kate bishop x female reader #kate bishop x you #kate bishop x reader #kate bishop x y/n #yelena belova #yelena belova imagine #yelena belova fluff #yelena belova x y/n #yelena belova x you #yelena belova x reader #yelena belova x female reader

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 7 months

Text

Helping Hand 3

Warnings: non/dubcon, mentions of divorce, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

Characters: Jonathan Pine, 40s reader

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

"Andy, I'm on my way to work," you say, almost breathless as you charge across the parking lot, "you know, I gotta pay my rent, my water, my electric--"

"Not that easy, is it?" He sneers.

"Excuse me!" You bluster, barely dodging a car as you go to cross to the sidewalk embankment in front of the store, "how dare you--"

"I did you a favour. Accept it. You needed to grow up, be out on your own--"

"Why the fuck did you even call?!" You throw your hand out as you pace along the window of the store. Only he can get you like this. Good riddance, it really is a favour.

"My mom's party--"

"Oh, fuck off. I don't have time for that. I'm working overtime trying to scrape by because you gave me nothing, Andrew! You took everything and gave nothing!"

You tear the phone from your ear and hit your finger against the screen. End call. Bastard. He has you all worked up before a twelve. Probably exactly what he wanted.

You stop and force yourself to catch your breath. You can't walk in like this. You're close to tears. You don't even realise until your nose tingles and you feel the sheen threatening to spill over. You cover your face and huff.

"Oh, dear, are you alright?"

You don't move at first, hoping the voice is talking to someone else. It's too familiar. You slowly drop your hands and look at Jonathan. He must have quite the library if he's here so often. You swallow.

"Yeah, yeah," you like. You are not okay. You wasted twenty years on a man who never loved you. "I'm just about to get started."

You force a smile, cheek twitching as it bulbs. You turn to peek over your shoulder at the purple logos behind the glass. Thank god the barriers hide you from view.

"Ah, well then, shall we go in together? I'm just headed in myself."

"Uh, sure," you nod and drop your purse from your elbow to your hand, stuffing your phone inside. "Thanks."

"Allow me," he rushes ahead of you to the doors, "darling."

He gestures you in first. You precede him, hiding the chagrin that tugs at your forced smile. You see Heather, another trainee, and give her a small wave. She's behind the till doing her morning half-shift before classes.

"Well, uh, I should go put my stuff in the hub," you say over your shoulder, "I have to clock in for the--"

"Mr. Pine," Marcia, the morning manager appears from the Best Sellers display, "how are you?"

"Oh, hello," he greets her brightly, "just another check-in. Holidays are fast approaching. Any word on the truck?"

"Not yet but we're scheduling for it's arrival--"

Your head turns buzzy as you short-circuit. Pine. As in Pine Shelves, the story. He's not a customer at all, he's your goddamn boss. Oh god, as if the day couldn't get worse.

"Pardon, we'll discuss that later," Jonathan tells Marcia, "I was just speaking with this lovely employee. Always so helpful. I see training is going well."

"Ah, she's one of Giselle's, but thank you, sir."

He nods and she takes her cue. She retreats as he faces you. You can't speak. You're stupid with shock and embarrassment.

"I hate to make you late," he grins handsomely, "I wanted to tell you though that my sister loves the bookmark, no word on the book yet."

"Your sister?" You blink.

"Ah, yes, she had a birthday recently," he explains, "I must thank you for your suggestions."

You nod, fighting back the blaze behind your eyes, "no problem, Mr. Pine."

"Oh, dear, Jonathan suits me fine," he fixes his pocket square.

"Alright, um, sorry, I..." you look pointedly at the clock, "can't leave them hanging... sir."

"Hard worker," he praises, "as you will."

He stays as he is as you back away. You spin, nearly walking into the shelf of pens that stands centre of the wide aisle. You quickly skirt around it and scurry into the forest of paperbacks and hardcovers.

You get it. It was all a test. You just hope you past. Certainly, you will know once your probationary period is up. For now, you'll just painstakingly agonize over every word you said to the man.

💙

Your shift finally ends but brings with it little celebration. There is no relief in going home to an empty apartment. The rush of customers kept your mind off of the disaster of your life and now you have nothing to keep you from facing the mess.

You cross the lot, checking the time on your phone as you head for the stop right at the edge of the road. You see the orange letters of the bus banner approach. Shit, it's early.

You break into a run. Oof, you're a bit old for this. As you get to the curb, you're left in a fog of exhaust. The driver doesn't see you as he pulls away and you curse at the moonlight. Of course.

You deflate and fall onto the bench. Your feet hurt, your hips hurt, your back, neck and shoulders. Forty minutes for another bus or you could walk down twenty minutes and catch the connection.

You don't know which is better. Once more, indecisive to a fault. You lean forward and cradle your head. You can't even afford an uber or taxi home. You're better off walking for two hours.

So that's what you'll do. You get up and drag your feet down the unmaintained and crumbling sidewalk. You get to the large intersection and wade through the chaos of lights and impatient drivers.

On the other side, you head towards the light of the Walmart with several stops outside. It will at least be safer than standing in pitch black. As you come up to the edge of the large shopping plaza, a pair of headlights flash over you. On, off, then on again. Then a short toot.

You squint at the sleek black paint and the interior light flicks on. Oh god. You cringe as you make eye contact with Jonathan and he gives a small wave.

Just what you need.

He rolls down his window and sticks his head out, "need a lift?"

You shake your head, "my bus is coming." You point over him.

"Bus? Darling, I insist." You hear the locks slide back, "do get in."

You stare, a deer in actual headlights. You can't afford a taxi, so you sure as shit can't afford to tell your boss no.

#jonathan pine #dark jonathan pine #dark!jonathan pine #jonathan pine x reader #the night manager #helping hand #series #drabble #au #bookstore au

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blueshistorysims · 20 days

Text

October 31st, 1923, London, England

Out of the parties the Porters were known for, it was their Halloween party they were infamous for, and anyone who was anybody was invited, not just friends and acquaintances. Byron thought it amusing, seeing everyone dressed up in elegant costumes that likely cost a pretty penny. They ranged from cute, like Wilhelmina’s ladybug ensemble, to well, his sister’s extremely accurate gown of Empress Elisabeth of Austria she’d made herself. He had not a clue where she’d gotten such a fine wig, nor did he want to know.

Of course, Byron was less focused on the party, but rather the two women who were talking near his sister and her paramour. He’d never seen them before, but the woman dressed as a Greek god looked rather familiar, though he couldn’t place why.

“I wonder who those lovely ladies are.”

Montgomery, who’d been in a sour mood for most of the night, turned his head and looked generally surprised. “Oh, don’t ya even think ‘bout it.”

“What? You know Miss Dionysus?”

“That’s Miss Eleora Balass.”

“...Like the Richer-Than-God Baghdadi Jew Balasses?”

“Aye. I’m her father’s personal physician.”

“You? Salim Balass’ personal doctor? He’s everything you are politically against.”

“I think he likes havin’ someone who isn’t afraid to speak their mind. We get into such arguments, and I’m afraid I’ve pushed too far, and he’ll fire me, but then the next day he’ll invite me to lunch and we’ll laugh over it.”

The Balass family were one of the wealthiest families in the world—Salim Balass being the fourth richest man in Europe, and listed as one of the top twenty wealthiest men in the world. They had made their fortune as merchant and traders, rising to power in the Mughal Empire before moving their base of operations to India after being forced to flee Baghdad in the early 19th century, where they established control over the Indian cotton industry, moving to Great Britain as their home in the late 1880s.

“Well, what’s Miss Balass like?”

Montgomery sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “No.”

Byron couldn’t help but smirk. “Introduce me. I’ll force you if I must.”

Almost on cue, Miss Balass and her friend turned around, her face lighting up upon recognizing the Scotman’s face, and she waved. “Oh, Dr. MacGregor!”

“Well, I suppose you’ll have to introduce us now, Montgomery.”

“Fuck off.”

“You know the Porters, Dr. MacGregor?” Miss Balass asked.

“Aye, Mr. Porter and I were flatmates many years ago.” He sighed, turning to Byron reluctantly. “May I introduce his grace the Duke of Feldsbury?”

Byron smiled and nodded his head. “A pleasure.”

“A duke? My, my, I wasn’t aware you knew such people.”

The other woman turned to her friend. “I thought you said he was socialist.”

“Oh, he is, don’t worry. Dr. MacGregor is my late sister’s widower. We knew each other far before I was even aware of the Feldsbury title.”

“Oh, Feldsbury! You’re the former army captain one who married the Gardenhouse girl… and well, divorced her too.”

The way she said it was so amusing that Byron couldn’t help but laugh. “Yes, I am unwed now.” He turned to Miss Balass’ friend, dressed as Anne Boleyn. “I’m sorry, we haven’t been properly introduced, Miss Boleyn.”

She laughed as Miss Balass blushed.

“This is Miss Samira Patel. Our fathers were business partners when we were in India, and they still are today. Miss Patel is one of my closest friends. Dr. MacGregor you know is my father’s physician.”

Montgomery smiled at Miss Patel. “Lovely to meet ya.”

Once they moved past pleasantries, the conversation grew much more lively, and as Byron grew enamored with Miss Balass, he could tell Montgomery was quickly warming up to Miss Patel.

In fact, when the quartet took their leave, Byron looked over to Montgomery, Miss Patel holding his arm, and said he planned to spend the night with Miss Balass—in Gaelic of course so the women wouldn’t understand.

The doctor smirked and replied in English, “I think so too.”

“You speak Gaelic, duke?”

He smiled at her. “Would you like to find out what else I speak, Miss Balass?”

She rolled her eyes as she waved for a taxi.

#the walshes #the walsh legacy #ts4 #the sims 4 #sims 4 decades #sims 4 historical #sims 4 decades challenge #ts4 story #ts4 historical #sims 4 history challenge #history simblr #ts4 1920s #1920s #byron walsh #montgomery macgregor #samira patel #eleora balass #giselle walsh #francesca pace

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jaehyunnie77 · 1 year

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omg hi! Saw that your requests were open hehe yay 🥳 could I request for a secret bf jaehyun x y/n one where they went for a Christmas party and y/n stands under a mistletoe without knowing and her guy friend starts a convo with her below it causing their friends to point it out and make them kiss, so instead, she kisses him on the cheek, making jaehyun jealous and pouty 🥹

Hope it makes sense hahaha! You can switch it up in your way too 🥰❤️ Love your stories so so much ✨

pairing: Jaehyun x f. reader

genre: pure fluff - like the purest i think i've ever written

word count: 2.1k

a/n: i got busy during the holidays, but here's a late christmas fic upon requested. thank you so much anon for sending this in. i hope you enjoy it :)

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“I promise it’s going to be really quick babe. One hour max and then we can go home, order take out, and watch movies.” You tell your boyfriend as you adjust his tie.

“I just don’t see the point of why we have to be here when it’s freezing and Christmas is in a couple of days.” He says.

You look up after being satisfy with his tie and see a cute pout on his lips. He may be a twenty-five year old adult, but sometimes he can be a kid. Especially right now when he looks so adorable with his pout.

“Hey look at me.” you tell him as you wrap your arms around his shoulders. His hands mindlessly finding your waist and holding you close. “It’s going to be quick Jae and right after you’ll have me for the entire week.”

At that, his pout turns into a smirk and into a big smile. Like you’ve said, he can be a kid sometimes. “That sounds good honestly.” He leans forward and captures your lips together. If you didn’t have this Christmas party to attend to, you’d kiss him all night.

You pull away from him reluctantly, “We’re going to be late.”

He sighs deeply, “Okay. Just remember that I’m doing this for you. I’m guessing nobody has zero idea we’re together, so you go in first and I’ll follow soon after.” You smile at him before giving him another kiss.

“See you soon cutie.” You tease before heading in.

Your Christmas work parties are usually fun, especially when there’s alcohol and you get to see how fun your colleagues are. Usually, you’d enjoy your night out, mingle with everybody, and do small talk, but this year, all you want to do is go home with Jaehyun and spend time with him.

You both work at the same company and have been dating for six months. Of course, you would have to talk to HR about your relationship at one point, but you both like knowing that no one knows you two are together. Why? Well, let’s just say you both didn’t like each other at the very beginning. Yeah, how cliché right?

It all started a year and a half ago when Jaehyun was a new employee and your first interaction wasn’t the happiest one. You pulled an all-nighter the night before and haven’t had your morning coffee. As you walk into the kitchen, your brain automatically was filled with giddiness knowing you’re about to have your fuel for the day. There was a man using the coffee machine and you didn’t think much of it, let alone care who it was.

You stood next to him as you grab your cup and sugar pack and that’s when you heard a loud noise and a ‘fuck’ next to you. You look up to see the coffee machine smoking and you knew you were going to have a horrible day all because of this jerk.

“What the hell happened!?”

“I don’t know. I was just trying to put my brew in there and it just started acting weird and not doing anything so I just pushed all of these buttons and bam.”

“Ugh you idiot. If you don’t know how to work a coffee machine, go to Starbucks next time!” you say angrily.

“Are you questioning my intelligence on how to work a coffee machine?” the man looks at you angrily.

You stand a little straighter, “Yes I am because if you knew how to work this, then we wouldn’t be having this conversation right now.

He squints his eyes before retaliating back, “Well maybe you should start being nice to people you don’t know or better yet, how about you make yourself a cup of coffee before coming into work and spoiling everyone’s day.”

Your jaw fell open because never in your life has anyone talked to you like that or have a comeback as he did. You were at a complete lost for words until he turned around to walk back out the kitchen.

“Yeah, well it still doesn’t fix the problem you created by not knowing how to work this thing.”

All the man could do was laugh at you before waving you off and exiting.

Just who the hell does he think he is?

Since that day, you made your own coffee at home before coming into work. Little did you know, he always saw you with coffee in your hand and notices how your smile captures your beauty. Sure, you were probably having an off day that first encounter, but he still couldn’t help that you somehow took his words into consideration by bringing your own coffee into work.

You’ve seen him around a couple of times, but never interacted with him until you both had an assignment together.

“Oh look who it is. The coffee machine breaker.”

“Good morning to you too Cruella.”

You make a face at him, “Trust me I don’t want to work on this assignment with you either.”

Jaehyun eyes you before playfully saying, “Who says I didn’t want to work with you?”

Surprise, you look at him to see his eyes twinkling and a smirk on his lips. Once again, you’re at a lost for words and don’t bother saying anything back. Instead, you focus on your laptop in front of you putting random ideas on Word.

Jaehyun sees the affect he has on you and couldn’t help but chuckle to himself. Cute.

Who knew that assignment would change the interjectory of your outlook on Jaehyun. You ended up spending your long days at work with him figuring and coming up with ways for this assignment and on days off, you both somehow manage to meet up and talk about things you had in common.

After said assignment project was finished, you both found yourselves spending more time together. You no longer were annoyed by him or called him ‘the coffee machine breaker’, but instead, you called him by his name or his nickname Jae. Eventually things fell into place soon after.

What can you say? The universe does work in mysterious ways.

As you grab a flute of champagne by the bar, you turn around to see your boyfriend walking through the door. Even if it has been six months you’ve been dating or see him walk around for almost two years, he still takes your breath away. The man knows how to capture everyone’s attention by his gaze and his well mannerism. Not to mention how hot he looks in his black and white suite.

I really can’t believe this man is my man.

As the party continues on, you manage to talk to a few colleagues and steal glances at Jaehyun from afar. It came to the point where you were almost playing a game of hide and seek.

“Wow. Look at you. Who knew you could dress up nicely.” Josh, your friend and ass kisser tells you.

“Everyone has their secrets. You clean up pretty nicely as well.”

“Thanks! Oh by the way, I just want to tell you that I think you’re an amazing person to look up to.”

“How many have you had to drink?” you chuckle. “But thank you for the kind words. If you’ll excuse me I –“

“Oh my god! Mistletoe! Y/N and Josh are under the mistletoe!” Someone on your right yells excitedly.

You see everyone near turn towards you as you look up and sure enough there is a mistletoe above you and Josh.

“Kiss. Kiss. Kiss. Kiss. Kiss.” Your colleagues chant in unison.

You shake your head from pure embarrassment, but also trying to find Jaehyun to somehow tell him it isn’t what it looked like. You finally see him in the back, his gaze intently on yours with an expression you haven’t seen before.

“Just one kiss.” Your coworker Joy says.

You look back to Josh who’s hoping more than anything you’d kiss him. Without wanting unwanted attention on you, you kiss Josh on the cheek. “There. Done.”

“No, that’s not –“

“Technically, that was a kiss. It doesn’t mean we have to kiss on the lips and we are not like that.” You explain yourself. Your eyes search for Jaehyun once again only to see him pouting and heading outside the balcony.

You follow him right out, not caring anymore about what took place or the people around you. The only focus you had in mind was your boyfriend. Once outside, Jaehyun was overlooking the city and even when he stands with his back facing you, he’s still handsome. You walk towards him until you’re standing beside him and taking in the city night lights.

“Babe-“

“There’s people around Y/N.” his tone is cold with a hint of frustration.

“Please Jae, it’s not what you think. I didn’t even know there would be a mistletoe, let alone be under one.”

“Do you know that he likes you? I heard him talking about you one day and telling everyone he was going to shoot his shot with you because he thinks you feel the same way.”

“Are you jealous?” the more he talked the more you couldn’t help but smile.

“I bet he made sure to stop under that mistletoe just so he could get a kiss from you.” he sneers.

“You know I don’t feel the same way he does. I only have feelings for you.” you step closer to him until you could feel his warmth embracing you.

Jaehyun exhales frustratingly, “I just wish it was me under that mistletoe.” He says quietly.

You look at your boyfriend and want more than anything for that to also be him. An idea pops into your head and you know what you have to do. It was either now or never.

“Come with me.” You take out your hand for him to hold.

“Where are we going?”

“On an adventure.” You smile up at him with round eyes.

How could he say no to that face and to you. He takes your hand and follows your lead back into the Christmas party. Once inside, you still don’t let his hand go even if he tried to let go of yours. All that did was make you hold onto him tighter.

You found a mistletoe and walked over to it and stopped underneath it. Jaehyun has zero idea what’s going on until he looks at his surroundings and finally up to see the mistletoe.

“Y/N –“

“Y/N and Jaehyun are under the mistletoe.” You hear someone whispering loudly to someone and soon enough the entire room has their eyes on you both.

“There’s people watching.” He says nervously.

“Let them. I don’t want to be here with no one else but you. I don’t care what people say as long as I have you by my side and I don’t want to hide us forever because I’m in love with you. Only you Jaehyun.”

At your confession he smiles widely and you couldn’t help but smile wider if that’s possible. You crane your neck up as he bends down to meet you halfway as your lips meet each other. You’ve had many kisses with Jaehyun, but this kiss is the first kiss to seal how you truly felt for one another and to show everyone that you love each other. His hands cradle the side of your face before one goes to your back as he dips you down. You yelp in surprise as the room gets louder from all the clapping and celebration.

He takes you back up and you’re left winded. The smile on his face is the only thing you see and the only one that matters.

“You’re crazy but I love you Y/N.” he pecks your lips.

“And I love you coffee machine breaker.” At that you both laugh at how far you’ve come.

“How about we get out of here and go watch movies?”

“Please. My feet has been killing me for the last hour.”

“Babe, that’s literally the time the party started.” He giggles.

“Yeah, I know. I don’t want to be here, I just want to be with you.”

“God you’re so cute. Let’s go.”

At that, you both left the party hand in hand and no longer hiding your relationship. Starting tonight, you get to show the world who makes you the happiest person on the planet.

Also … you may or may not be already planning for many more kisses underneath the mistletoe with the love of your life Jeong Jaehyun.

#jaehyun fic #jaehyun fluff #jaehyun oneshot #jaehyun scenario #jaehyun imagines #nct fluff #nct fic #jaehyun x female reader

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parmmykitty · 4 months

Text

(This is late. Oops) Yes I made Present Re2 Leon. I couldn't help it! he's the only friendly character that I can use! I'm not sure that Wesker would really take life lessons from a guy who looks like he would cry if you yelled at him but I'll try my best!

The R.P.D. Christmas Carol pt.4

Scrooge!Wesker x Secretary!Reader

Pt.1 Pt.2 Pt.3

While the ghost had the body of a boy in his very early twenties he seemed to be the size of the room. His head almost hitting against the ceiling when Wesker had surprised him.

"I can see what Past was talking about now," he said.

The ghost looked down at him like a dog seeing a toy, "Past? She was talking about me? What did she say?" He asked in rapid fire. Wesker rolled his eyes at the boy and chose not to answer him. "Oh! No, wait! That's not what I'm meant to say!" The cleared his throat and let out an enthusiastic, "Come in, and know me better man!"

Wesker couldn't believe the incompetence of this ghost. He was like an eager child. "Well? Come in! Come in!" He waved his arm to welcome him into the room.

"I'm already in."

"Oh, you're right. Did I already tell you that I'm the ghost of Christmas present, too?"

Sighing he replied, "Yes."

"Oh, sorry!"

"You seem distracted. Maybe you should take the night off, ghost."

"I can't take the day off! It's the night before the dawn before Christmas! What kind of Christmas present would I be if I took it off?! And I am the ghost of Christmas present if you didn't know!"

Wesker was starting to get a migraine again. "So I've heard."

"You have? From who? You know, if you came in to know me better man I would've told you!" The giant ghost waved his hand in the air creating a lit torch out of nothing, "but we have to get going it's already past 2! We're losing daylight! Or uhh nightlight!" He waved the torch around his head in big circles and began to shrink down to Wesker's size.

The boy stopped shrinking and revealed himself to be a bit shorter than Wesker. "I wasn't aware that we were on such a tight schedule," Wesker said with uninterest. This ghost was going to be the death of him. He was dumb as a rock and had the memory of a goldfish.

"Of course we are! There's only so many hours before Christmas starts and we're losing them fast!" The constant shouts of the ghost was doing nothing for Wesker's head. "Come! Walk with me!" The ghost made his way out of the house while constantly turning to make sure Wesker was following him.

"Look all around you! Look at all the Christmas cheer!" The ghost spread out his arms in the middle of the street with a big smile. He seemed to be seeing something that Wesker couldn't. He looked around himself excited and walked around looking at everything with wonder.

"Am I supposed to be seeing something, or are you hallucinating?"

"Oops," the ghost fumbled to grasp his torch before lifting it high in the air. The torch let out a bright light and as it dimmed back down the sun rose into the sky and people appeared into the street. "There! Now you can see them."

The Christmas spirit in the air lifting Wesker's own for the first time in years. For years he'd been holing himself away during Christmas to avoid this very feeling. The people walking around the early morning town carrying presents and walking with loved ones gave a party like atmosphere around him.

"Isn't it beautiful! With all the people walking around with love in their hearts. All the carolers and choirs spreading their happiness to others," the ghost said fondly, "Is there anything better?"

Wesker remained silent as he took in the sights around him. While there certainly seemed to be love in the air; he couldn't help but feel beyond crowded with the overabundance of people.

"Yeah, the love in the air is what makes the feeling of Christmas," the ghost said," you know, if you have love in your own heart everyday can feel like Christmas. The holiday is only a reminder to everyone."

Wesker turned to the ghost and looked at him suspiciously, "why do you say that?"

"Isn't that what you were just feeling? Or did you say it? I can't remember now, it's in the past."

The constant forgetfulness made some sense now. The ghost could only remember the present and forgot the past easily.

"Well, we might as well get started. Go ahead, show me the Christmas around me that I've been neglecting."

The ghost sharply turned to him and smiled, "That was easy! See, you feel the love too! Why don't we go see your coworkers? I'm sure they're having fun!" The ghost danced along the street to the songs being sung all around him as the two walked.

"This is the apartment their having Christmas at. Let's go in, and know them better man!" he said before walking through the door into the complex. Wesker reluctantly followed him but did admit he was rather intrigued on how others he knew celebrated without him.

In the room stood almost all of S.T.A.R.S Alpha team and a few from Bravo. They were all sitting around the living room facing each other. "So what else does everyone want to do now? Dinners gone, dishes are cleaned, presents are opened. Anything else?" Chris said to the room.

Jill looked up at him from her seat on the couch, "Let's play a game! We can play, like, hot or cold with charades. I'll go first!" Jill stood up and stood in front of the group of people. She raised two fingers and tapped them on her wrist before gesturing her hands together to mean a whole and starting. She stood up as straight as she could and held her hands behind her back.

"A soldier," someone shouted from the back.

"Warm," Jill answered. She then slicked her hair back, though it fell back down immediately, and formed a sharp frown on her face.

"A sergeant?"

"Cold."

She pretended to put on a pair of glasses and then turned to the Christmas tree and shook her fist at it.

Invested, Wesker let out, "A captain," eventhough no one could hear.

Absently the ghost said, "Good guess."

"I got it!" Chris yelled out.

"Two words. Must be a name since we've almost all been in the military. Someone who's strict, mean and hates Christmas. It's Albert Wesker!"

The ghost beside him let out a hearty laugh along with the rest of the room.

"You got it!" Jill shouted out.

Albert turned to the ghost who seemed to have grown a little older over the span of the game. His hair was a little longer and his eyes sharper.

"What, Wesker? No sense of humor?" The ghost smugly said.

Wesker rolled his eyes at him before starting to walk away. "Are we done here? I've had quite enough insulting tonight."

"Fine. Be that way. You buzzkill. You know it wouldn't kill you to take a joke," the ghost stopped and thought for a second, "but I guess it might if you don't!" He busted out into more laughter.

The two left the house and proceeded to walk into the street.

"Where are we going now?" Wesker asked the ghost.

"To your one true loves house," he replied as he clutched his hands together making goo-goo eyes.

Reaching their house was more worrying than Wesker had expected. The houses slowly becoming more rundown and the people in the street disappearing.

"We're here. Nice and quaint."

Wesker looked through their window to see into the house. "This is where my secretary lives? I thought they were paid well."

"How did you know this is their house?" He asked.

"You just told me, idiot," Wesker rolled his eyes.

Softly the ghost spoke to himself, "I did?"

Coming down the street came his secretary while humming a Christmas song. They entered their house and beeline for a chair. They appeared to be a little more sickly than usual.

"What's wrong with them?"

The ghost walked forward to look into the home. "They're sick. Obviously."

They watched as the homeowner got back up from the chair and made their way to a cluster of medicine bottles on the table. Almost limping as they walked.

"They're never this bad at work. Sometimes they'd have a cold or some pain at the best, but never like this. And why do they live like this? They told me that they had inherited their parent's house and moved in to save money, but they look like they're in poverty. This doesn't make sense." Like the last house Wesker walked through the door to enter their home.

Wesker watched his dear friend open most of the bottles and pull out multiple pills before taking them.

"You said they're sick, ghost. Will they be okay?" Wesker looked sadly down at his friend. He hadn't know that these were the conditions they lived under.

"I don't know," the ghost replied. He seemed even more mature than before and no longer had the same energetic attitude. "You'd have to ask the next ghost that question; however, I do see a faint vision of an empty home. But what does that matter? There's too many people in the world anyway! They should just die and make room for the rest!"

Wesker's friend stood up and made their way to the fridge revealing only a few pieces inside. They pulled out what seemed to be a few slices of deli meat and made a small sandwich with it.

Tears rolled down their cheeks before whispering, "Merry Christmas."

The ghost violently grabbed Wesker's collar and yanked him towards him. "It's time to go." All at once the depressing home was replaced with howling winds surrounding him.

Around him were rows upon rows of graves. In the distance was a threatening church looming over the area. The ghost slowly sat down on a stone bench nearby.

"Looks like my time is up," the ghost said.

"What do you mean?" Wesker asked while turning fully towards him.

"The ghost of Christmas present can't really live if Christmas is in the past. Can it? It was fun while it lasted, Wesker. But now it's time for the future."

Wesker frantically looked the ghost up and down to find a way to help him. He seemed to now be older than Wesker himself with graying hair. "How long until you leave?" He asked softly.

"I was told "when the bell strikes twelve"," he said then quickly coughed.

"And what happens now?" He asked as the bells started to slowly toll.

"Now, you get to meet the ghost of Christmas future. Go forth, and know him better man!" Were his final words before he became dust and faded away.

#albert wesker x reader #albert wesker #resident evil #wesker x reader #leon kennedy

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yoyeolears · 6 months

Text

it's okay not to be lonely//chapter 1

zhang hao x sung hanbin

genre: angst & fluff

warnings: death, cursing, a bit suggestive

masterlist: summary | 1 | 2 | 3 pt. 1 | 3 pt. 2| 4 | 5 | 6 (final)

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chapter 1: you comforted me when i had no one

word count: 2,745

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1st of January 2024

Hao had been certain that he would be alone forever after his parents’ sudden and tragic passing.

In fact, his theory had initially proven to be right. Three years into his university life no one had really approached him. Maybe it was because he was a foreigner, or maybe because he never made himself available or was even open to making any potential new acquaintances.

He believed it was better this way. Being alone was better than getting attached to people only to lose them.

That’s what he had thought until he met Sung Hanbin.

Well, not exactly the second he met him. His thoughts then couldn’t have been more contrasting.

Three months earlier

Hao was never late. He couldn’t afford to be late. This scholarship was the only thing that certified his financial capability to continue his studies abroad.

He had never been late. Except for today. He blamed it on his neighbours, who loved to pick up a fight with each other at 3 am in the morning. Hao was not a violent person, but last night all kinds of thoughts crossed his head as he laid in his bed trying to finally get some rest.

The rest he never ended up getting, which has now led to his ultimate demise.

If only he was a good runner. If the lack of sleep didn’t kill him, it would be these stairs.

Hao let out a big puff of breath upon reaching the top of the stairwell. He took a look at the familiar double doors in front of him. He had never thought too much of them until this very moment. Now, these doors looked as if the entrance to hell had been relocated and had been re-established as his lecture hall. He was sure he wasn’t going to hear the end of it by Professor Park.

His shaky hands reached the door handle before giving it a push.

Taking a step into the auditorium when class had already started could easily compare to that one time his mum had hired a clown for his 8th birthday party. Poor Hao was so terrified when the clown reached to give him the balloon with that big red smile of his that he wet himself in front of all the other kids and their parents. One word. Mortifying. And yes, he is still terrified of clowns. Although he supposes he would pick them any day if it meant having his mum back.

“Mr. Zhang, nice of you to grace us with your presence at last.”

Hao’s ears turned bright pink, “I sincerely apologize Mr. Park. I barely had any sleep last night and I slept through my alarm. It won’t be happen again.”

The professor raised his eyebrows, “It better have been studying keeping you up and not some girl or party. I wouldn’t expect such thing from our top student after all.”

“As if any girl would go near him.”, the guy sitting in the front seats mumbled to his seatmate.

“Or guy.”, the latter replied, both silently laughing at the ‘humorous’ joke they’d made.

Hao felt humiliated. Not only was he being scolded for being late, but his own professor was also making unfair assumptions about his late-night activities. Sure, the way he worded it might have sounded off, but he never thought any of the academic staff would think of him that way. Even so, what if he did have someone over? It wasn’t realistic considering he didn’t even know a single person in any of his classes, but would it have been so wrong if he chose to? He was twenty-one after all.

Though, he supposed that guy was right. It’s not like any girl or guy would want him at the end of the day. Who would someone who ignores any advances in favor of protecting himself from inevitable loss?

“Actually, it was because my-“, he tried to defend himself.

Professor Park cut him off, “I don’t care about your after bed-time activities Zhang Hao. Kindly take a seat and this shall not be repeated. Don’t forget you are here on a scholarship.”

Hao bowed his head, “Yes sir.”

He didn’t need anyone. Being alone was better. But for this one moment he really wished someone was there for him. To give him a hug and tell him it’s alright. That his mistake was not significant and that he could still do this. To give him strength. But Hao had no one. He'd eliminated any chances of that happening.

Randomly picking a seat, Hao sat down in his chair for the day. He couldn’t be picky anyway. He was pretty sure his usual seat at the back had already been taken.

“That was quite harsh of him. This is like your first time ever being late.”, a soft male voice whispered next to him.

Hao’s hands paused while setting his notebook on the desk. Was someone talking to him?

“Huh?”, he turned around looking at the not-so-much of a stranger, which turned out be Sung Hanbin.

Hanbin repeated, “I said that was quite harsh of him. You didn’t deserve this. You’ve never been late anyway. Plus, who cares if you had a girl over? Isn’t that normal?”

Was Hao being comforted by the University's proclaimed sweetheart?

“What do you know?”

His eyes widened, “Nothing. I am not trying to make assumptions. I just noticed how defeated you looked. It wasn’t your fault.”

Hao felt bad. These were the exact words he had wanted to hear, yet the first thing that rolled out of his mouth was an unjustified insult.

“Thanks, I guess.”

His social skills were terrible. If Hanbin didn’t think he was already a freak, he probably believed it by now.

What happened next completely shocked him.

He smiled at him.

“No problem! Always happy to defend anyone who has been subjected to the unfair wrath of old cranky men. You are Hao, right?”

Hao dumbly nodded his head.

A hand reached out to shake his, “I am Hanbin. Sung Hanbin”.

He simply looked at Hanbin's hand almost bewildered. He hadn’t had any type of normal human contact in years. Let alone physical. He didn’t really know how to act. The gears in his head were turning and he could tell Hanbin was slowly coming to the realization that Hao was starting to feel uncomfortable.

Hanbin retracted his hand, giving him another smile, “It’s okay. Handshakes are not for everyone.”

Hao, not knowing how to properly respond, gave him an incredibly awkward smile before turning back to look at the board.

It’s not like he would talk to Hanbin again. He would just store this event in his ‘moments-to-forget’ box.

He couldn’t have possibly known how wrong he was.

15th of September 2023

Hao slumped in his seat at the cafeteria. After his humiliating public appearance at Professor Park’s class, he had made it his life mission to never be late again. Even if that meant setting dozens of alarms and going to class on no sleep.

He couldn’t possibly fathom how two people could fight so much. Surely if they were this unhappy, they should go their own separate ways. It didn’t seem like they could or wanted to find an alternative solution either, so what was the point? Unless they were doing this on purpose so Hao’s murderous instincts – poor boy wasn’t even aware his mind was capable of such despicable thoughts – could awaken, unleashing a whole new side of him. One that would land him in jail for murder most likely. Then, him being a lone freak would definitely become a reality. If that’s what they were trying to achieve, they were doing a pretty good job at it.

Hao groaned before taking a nibble from his apple. He grimaced at the sour taste of it. This might have been the most distasteful apple he has ever eaten. Despite this, he took another bite. It wasn’t like he could actually afford proper food at the cafeteria anyway. Damn you inflation!

“Hao, hey!”, a familiar male voice exclaimed.

Hao furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. Who in the world was talking to him and why?

He turned his head to look at the source of the noise, when he saw Hanbin waving at him excitedly. Next to him, Hanbin's friends were looking at him entirely clueless. What was he doing talking to someone like Hao?

He recognized all three of them.

On his left, Kim Jiwoong, a senior in the Performance department of the University, known for his cool and laid-back personality. On his right was Seok Matthew. He had been Hanbin’s best friend since kindergarten and he himself was quite well known amongst school peers due to his reputation on the football team. Lastly, across the table sat Sua. He didn’t know much about her, but guessing from the way she kept on affectionately slapping Matthew’s shoulder while giving heart eyes, she might have been his girlfriend. That or she had the fattest crush on him and the boy next to her was completely oblivious. They were all considered to belong in the popular crowd, which Hao thought was a bit silly since they were in University for God's sake. How do you even get so popular in University, where thousands of kids walk around and go about their everyday routine of endlessly boring lectures and uncountable hours of stress-induced cramming in the library? He supposed some people could gain some form of popularity from joining certain societies or clubs, but Hanbin and his friends were practically acquainted with more than half of the University to some extent. Even if someone had never talked to any of them, they had definitely heard of them. If they had talked to them, they were most likely acquainted with them in some form.

Hao didn’t talk to people, but people talked about other people and since he didn’t really have any friends, this was the closest he could get to human interactions. Hearing all the gossip. It was a bit pathetic if you asked him, but it gave him enough social satisfaction.

He looked at Hanbin, eyebrows still raised in confusion. He lifted his hand, pointing to himself as if to ask if he was talking to him.

Hanbin laughed, before pointing at him in confirmation. Right, there were probably not many people with the name Hao in the school anyway. How stupid of him.

He felt his face go red at the embarrassing moment. He shyly waved back and then turned back around to face his table. He assumed Hanbin had already left to get back to his friends after this awkward greeting. Why would he even bother starting a conversation with him after all?

“I can’t believe you just turned your back to me. I am deeply hurt.”

Hao almost fell off his seat. What was Hanbin doing?

“Huh?”

Hanbin laughed, “You seem to love that response”.

Hao objected, “You scared me. It was to be expected.”

“Apologies. Sometimes, I forget creeping up on people will emit fewer positive or unpredictable responses. Won’t happen again.”

Hao just stared at him. He didn’t know what he was supposed to do. Did he try and make conversation? Or just wait for him to finish his part so he could leave him alone with his now brownish apple?

Hanbin looked at the apple in his hands, “Is that all you are having after five hours of classes?”

“I am not hungry.”, he weakly protested.

“Fair enough.”, he admitted.

He didn’t expect that. But then again, he didn’t really expect anything from Hanbin. He had thought he would persist, trying to get something out of him, to make him feel less.

“I am not hungry either.”, Hanbin noted, “But I hate to let food go to waste, so do you mind if I give you my extra sandwich? I am going out for BBQ later, so I won’t be eating it.”

Hao was beyond perplexed. What was going on?

He bit his lip, “Erm, okay.”

It’s not like he could say no. It would have been extremely rude of him to. He could do with a sandwich as well.

“Great, here!”, Hanbin reached out to hand him over his sandwich, before alarmingly retracting.

Hao’s eyes widened. He thought he was making Hao uncomfortable again. He watched as Hanbin awkwardly laughed to himself, placing the sandwich in front him on the table.

Hannbin regained some of his confidence, “See you soon, Hao. Enjoy the sandwich for me.”

He weakly waved his hand, in an almost lazy manner.

“Bye.”, he almost whispered as Hanbin ran off back to his friends.

What the hell?

30th of September 2023

Hao thought that after the cafeteria interaction, Hanbin would go back to his life and leave Hao to attend to his own. He was incredibly wrong.

In fact, Hanbin wouldn’t leave him alone. All of a sudden he was everywhere. For the first few days, he would come and sit next to him in Professor’s Park class, using the excuse that sitting next to the top student was a good influence. Following that, he started paying Hao more visits during lunch. Hanbin would always wave at him and leave him his extra sandwich, making use of his initial explanation; he wasn't hungry, and he had plans to eat out anyway. Now, Hao was aware that university students ate out a lot, but he wasn’t that naive. He knew Hanbin was doing this because he himself never had that kind of food. He didn’t know whether Hanbin was doing it out of pity or if there was another reason, but he appreciated how he never directly touched on the subject. He was being cautious.

And then, he started seeing him around the convenience store he worked at. And no, he knew Hanbin hadn’t been there before their first interaction a fortnight ago. After all, he wasn’t blind. Hanbin was incredibly good-looking, which made him hard to miss.

“Hey Hao!”, he greeted Hao at the register.

He took a brief look at Hanbin's items. Strawberry ice cream and lemonade. The usual. He was about to scan the first object when his eyes did a double take. There were two of each. Hanbin never bought two of each. Did he have company with him? Maybe Matthew was somewhere strolling around the story and Hao hadn't noticed him. Or was this perhaps some sort of post break-up therapy method? He didn’t even know if Hanbin had been seeing anyone.

Hanbin chuckled at his thoughtful expression, “Something caught your eye?”

“Erm, you just usually only buy one of each.”, he hesitantly pointed out.

Hanbin shyly smiled at him, hands playing with the string of his black Adidas track jacket.

“I actually wondered if you wanted to share with me. I know you go on break around this time.”

“How do you know?”

“You know… just by passing by.”, Hanbin bit at his lower lip anxiously.

Hao raised an eyebrow.

“Sorry, I don’t mean to sound like a creep. I genuinely pass by almost every day since it’s on my way home. That’s how I found out you work here anyway. Saw you through the window.”, he confessed, pointing at the window on his right.

That made sense.

“So, what do you say?”

“I don’t know. Don’t you want to share it with one of your friends or something?”, he asked.

Hanbin cocked his head back, “What do you mean? Aren’t you my friend?”

Hao’s heart clenched. Hanbin thought of him as a friend. He hadn’t felt this joyful yet devastated in a long time. He knew he was entering dangerous waters. Letting him in his life was not part of the plan. He would lose him somehow. He just knew it.

Still, his mouth spoke for him entirely different words.

“Sure. I can come out in two minutes. Just, erm, let me tell my manager.”

Hanbin beamed at him. He had a beautiful smile.

Hao smiled back at him albeit in an almost robotic manner, before turning to go to his manager’s office.

“Aren’t you going to scan my items first?”

He faltered before finally stopping and taking a step back. His ears were a deep red. He just couldn’t stop embarrassing himself in front of him.

“Right! How could I forget?”

Hanbin giggled. He thought that might have been the most melodious sound he had ever heard.

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Author's Note: Hello again everyone!! I am finally back with my second piece of work. I am so excited to share this with the world! As mentioned this one is a bit on the darker side, but I have tried to make it as lightheared as possible! Kindly read the warnings and proceed at your own risk! Stay safe people!! As of right now I think this will be roughly 3-4 chapters with each roughly 1,000 to 2,000 words. I still don't feel ready to share a bigger piece of work, so small baby steps for me!! Anyway, I hope whoever reads this sincerely enjoys it! Please leave your feedback!! It is really important to me as it encourages me to keep writing and improving! sending lots of love your way!

-Jina

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spiderlilyserendipity · 2 years

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JJK x Reader: Pushover

Summary: As an heiress on a mission to not get married, you go on a lot of marriage dates with older men. Finally meeting a man your age, you think Jeon Jungkook will have the same idea in mind as you. But you’re in for a surprise. Part 7 of the No Time for Love oneshot series!

Genres: Smut (pure smut hahaha)

Tags: Dom!Jungkook, good boy! Jungkook, Rich Girl!Y/N, Sub!Y/N, possessiveness!!!!!!!, oral sex (m. receiving), doggy style, JJK’s tats make an appearance, implied manhandling kink, aftercare, welcome to hell ladies.

Warnings: Unprotected sex!! (wrap it up)

WC: 3.1k

For the first and only time, these marriage dates feel useful to you.

A weekend getaway is what you need after a long few months of trying to run off older suitors. You’re only twenty-three, still a college student with a lot of potential in life. Yet, for rich people, young just means eligible for marriage. Because marriage is a way to get more connections and money in life.

Your parents have tried all sorts of things. You’ve run them all off in one way or another. With the rude or annoying ones, you played it dumb and matched their energy. With the hot and likable ones, you usually took them home on the first night.

Now at the end of their wits, your parents decide that fuck it, maybe someone your age will change your mind on marriage. You know for a fact it won’t, but you’re grateful nonetheless for tonight’s date.

Jeon Jungkook is the son of your parents’ company’s Director Jeon. He’s everything you’d want in a son-in-law, at least on paper. He’s already got a Master’s in business even though he’s only a year older than you, speaks multiple languages, and is reportedly very polite and handsome. Even though you don’t personally believe in marriage, you can’t lie – Jeon Jungkook definitely sounds like the full package.

With such a reliable son, it’s been rumoured Director Jeon will be retiring to hand over his position soon. It’s been said that Jungkook has been working day in and out to earn his father’s position, and that despite his looks, Jungkook is quite serious and doesn’t like partying or noise. You respect the man’s introverted nature, which is why you take up your parents’ offer for a weekend away at your beach side summer home.

You meet Jungkook at the mansion, which is set up next to the beach.

“Hello.” He spots you, coming over with a smile. You take a minute to check him out. Oh he’s handsome, even more handsome than the rumours say. His hair is parted a little to show a wide forehead, and his features are strong and masculine. But you can tell from his full-sleeved button up and ironed slacks that he is as uptight as the rumours say as well.

“Nice to meet you, I’m Y/N.” You smile at him, then lead him inside.

“How has your week been?” Jungkook asks you, obviously a little nervous.

“Good, good.” You answer, already a little bored. If only Jeon Jungkook was as flirtatious as he is handsome. But no matter, you’ve got a way with men like him. “Are you looking forward to the beach?”

Jungkook gives you a small, unconvincing smile. “Yes.”

You stop yourself from frowning. What, is he planning to work while we’re here?

You head to your separate rooms, starting to unpack. You’re halfway done when you get a text from your cousin Lena. Call me RN!!

“Yes?” You ask her when she picks up.

“Are you on a date with Jeon Jungkook right now? Like THE Jeon Jungkook?” Lena squeals in your ear. You pull the phone away from your ear. “I came here with my girls for the weekend and almost fainted when I saw you going inside with him!”

“Yeah. He’s kinda uptight though.” You admit. “Although maybe he’ll warm up to me over the weekend.”

“We’re throwing a pool party tonight, bring him at all costs! If you’re not into this hot nerd, I sure am!” Lena giggles.

You grin. “No way, he’s mine for the weekend.”

“That depends on who snags him first Y/N!” Lena laughs. “I’ll see you tonight at 7. Don’t be late!”

You hang up, smiling at your phone. It’s been ages since you saw your cousin, and you like her idea. Maybe Jeon Jungkook will warm up to you after a couple drinks. You’re not in this for marriage, but you certainly won’t mind having Jungkook in your bed tonight.

You finish unpacking and go downstairs, humming happily to yourself. Your smile immediately falls off your face when you see Jungkook sitting on the sofa, his work laptop in hand.

“Jungkook?” You ask.

He looks up at you, slightly startled. Then, he gives you a sheepish smile. “Sorry, just checking the stock prices for today.”

You chew your bottom lip. You get the sudden feeling he’ll say no to going to the party. “So…”

Suddenly, Jungkook looks at the clock behind you. “Oh, how rude of me! It’s lunchtime.”

What? You think, watching him close the laptop and stand up. You follow him to the kitchen, watching him look through the cabinets and the fridge. “What would you like to eat, Miss Y/N? I’m a pretty good cook.”

You shrug. “Ramen is okay.”

You watch Jungkook turn away from you, humming to himself as he begins to cook the noodles. You’re nervous, something that you never really are around men. But there’s something about Jungkook that makes him special. He just feels like an adult, like someone who knows what he’s doing and doesn’t have time for things like silly parties.

Still, it’s worth a shot. “Hey, Jungkook.” You ask him. Jungkook turns around from the stove.

“Yes, Y/N?”

“Um, so.. My cousin is here this weekend too and they’re throwing a pool party at their house tonight. Would you like to come with me?”

As expected, Jungkook doesn’t exactly look thrilled at the idea. “Um, sure.”

You feel your heart sink. Are you getting rejected right now.

“Here you go.” Jungkook places the plate of noodles in front of you a couple minutes later. You watch him pick up his plate and leave, probably to go look at stocks or whatever the fuck.

“What a dick.” You mutter to yourself.

After a while of sulking, you decide you’re not going to let Jungkook’s uptightness bother you.

You doll yourself up tonight, in a cute bikini and a light slip dress that leaves little to the imagination. You put your hair up in a half up half down look, putting on some light makeup. You adorn your wrists with bracelets and grab a pair of sunglasses, just for show.

You come downstairs to find Jungkook in a long sleeved shirt and cargo swim trunks. The two of you could not be more opposite.

You make eye contact with Jungkook, and for a split second, you swear you see his eyes travel down your body. But then, his good boy smile returns. “Hey. Ready to go?”

The pool party is so noisy you can hear it several houses down, and it doesn’t take long for you to step past the doors of your cousin’s vacation house and get into the chaos.

“Y/N!” Lena squeals. She gives you a tight hug. “And you must be Jungkook! I’m Lena, nice to meet you!” She beams.

Behind you, Jungkook gives her a tight smile. “Nice to meet you.”

You quickly get busy talking with your cousin’s friends, catching up after a long time. But all the while, you watch Jungkook in your peripheral — you see him make small talk with a few people, but mostly he stays inside the house, away from the pool.

“Here, have a drink!” Lena yells in your ear over the noise.

You throw back the drink in the red solo cup, a sickly sweet mesh of vodka and punch. The music blares louder, and you see a girl go up to Jungkook down the hall. She leans in to say something to him, and to your disappointment, he leans in to talk back to her. She walks away a moment later with a smile on her face, and you feel unnecessary jealousy creep into you.

Oh, so he does know how to treat women like he’s actually into them.

You busy yourself in a round of beer pong, not really interested in the people nor the game, but the feeling of Jungkook’s eyes lingering on you as you throw back drink after drink.

“Hey,” An unknown voice whispers in your ear. You look up to see a blond man, one you’ve never met before. He’s handsome, but your gut tells you something isn’t quite right. “Wanna head upstairs?”

You open your mouth to answer, alcohol clouding your brain. But then, you feel a strong pair of arms wrap tight around your centre and pull you backwards against a firm chest. “She’s with me, actually.” Jungkook’s deep voice rumbles in his chest, reverberating against your back. Self-control now gone, you shiver.

You watch the blond give Jungkook a dirty look then walk off. You can’t lie — that was sexy as hell, but you don’t get why Jungkook would do all this for you. “Jungkook?” You ask.

Jungkook lets go of you. You follow him silently, away from the noise near the pool table and to a quieter area of the yard.

“Hey, Jungkook?” You ask, your words slightly slurred due to the alcohol.

He turns around and looks at you. “Yes?”

You look down at your feet. “You know this isn’t real, right?”

Jungkook frowns. “What?”

“I mean—” You gesture backwards to the party. “All of this. It’s just a formality. What I’m saying is you don’t need to pretend to be all gentlemanly. I mean, I know what men are like. You don’t have to fake it, it’s not like I’ll tell on you if you get drunk or hookup with a girl on your vacation.”

Jungkook doesn’t say anything for a moment. “...Got it.” He says, turning away. You look up at him, catching his tightly clenched jaw and angry expression. “So you want me to be like that asshole.”

“Jungkook—” You call out to him, following him as he walks towards the house again. Suddenly, you roll your ankle. “Fuck!” You yell as you fall into the pool. Caught off guard, you splutter.

Once again, that same pair of strong hands pulls you in close, dragging you up for air.

“You’re a real handful, you know?” Jungkook mutters, pulling you in against his chest. You stare at him, shocked at how different he looks now. His hair is soaking wet, pushed back from his forehead. His white button up is now see-through from the water, and you can see the distinct black outline of tattoos along his upper chest and his right arm. You even think you see piercing holes along his ears.

What?

You let him pull you out of the water, blushing hard. You hear your cousin fussing over you nearby, but all you can look at is Jungkook.

Jungkook unbuttons his wet shirt and tosses it aside, accepting a dry towel from someone nearby. You swallow. A six pack and a sleeve tat is not what you were expecting from nerdy Jeon Jungkook.

“I’m going.” You whisper to Lena, getting up. You need to get your head straight.

You go home alone, both from embarrassment and also from how flustered you are by Jeon Jungkook. You strip off your wet clothes and sink into bed, needing a nap to get your head sorted.

A knock on your door wakes you up a couple hours later.

You groan, sitting up. It’s darker now, close to sunset.

Jungkook stands in your doorway, looking like his usual self again. A button up shirt and his hair down in his face. He makes the man you saw hours ago look like an illusion.

“Can we talk?” Jungkook asks, sounding nervous.

You nod, and Jungkook comes over, sitting on the edge of your bed. He sighs. “I admit I was being childish earlier. I didn’t mean to startle you enough that you slipped into the pool. How do you feel now?”

You shrug. “Okay.”

Jungkook’s eyes trail down for a second, then his hand snakes out. He pulls up the covers in front of your chest, covering your exposed cleavage for you. You blush. A man has never shown that much consideration for you.

“But I meant what I said earlier.” You continue, putting your hand over his. Jungkook looks down at your hands, then at you. “This is all just for show. You know as well as I do why our parents want us to get married.”

Jungkook bites his lower lip, then looks away. He mutters something.

“What?” You ask. He says nothing. You frown. “Jungkook, what did you say?”

“I said, that doesn’t mean I can’t take care of you.” Jungkook says, startling you with the fierce look in his eyes. “If we’re here together for the weekend, obviously I don’t want some greasy dude putting his hands all over you. I wanna keep you safe, that’s all.”

You blush, biting your lower lip. “...Then do it.”

Jungkook frowns. “Do what?”

“Put your hands all over me.” You pull the blanket down, putting Jungkook’s big hand flat against your chest bone.

Jungkook looks at you, then at his hand against your chest, then sighs. Then, without a second’s hesitation, he tugs you into the fiercest kiss you’ve had in a long time.

You let him pull you into his lap, wrapping his arms around your waist. You kiss for a long time, then tug at his shirt collar to demand he take it off.

Jungkook tips his head back, letting out an airy laugh.

You frown at him. “What?”

Jungkook looks up at you, his eyes glinting in the dim light. “You don’t really think this is how it’s gonna go, do you, babe?”

Jungkook’s hands trail down to your hips, his thumbs pushing in against your pubic bone. You gasp. He smirks. “Do you think I’m a pushover?”

“N-No?” You ask, confused. You are shocked at Jungkook’s confidence, his complete flip in personality.

“Being nice to women isn’t the same as not knowing what I’m doing in the bedroom baby.” Jungkook whispers in your ear, pressing a kiss to your neck. You shiver. “Familiar with the colour system, babe?”

Your eyes widen. “No way.”

Jungkook lets out another airy laugh. “Try me.”

“G-Green for go, yellow for slow down, red for stop.”

Jungkook hums, eyes darkening. “And what’s yours, babe?”

“G-Green, sir.”

Jungkook lifts you up by the backs of your thighs, bouncing you slightly. You gasp, wrapping your legs around his waist. “S-Sir.” You whimper.

Jungkook kisses you hard. “Fucking finally.” He hisses. “Been waiting to get my hands on you.”

You let him lay you down against the bed in just your swimwear, pinning your hands above your head. He kisses along your neck, then down your collarbone. He chuckles against your skin as you whine and writhe to no avail.

“You have no idea how much I hated seeing those fuckboys eyeing you.” Jungkook says, kissing down your stomach and your hips. You thrust up and he holds you down with ease, leaving small marks along your pubic bone. You watch as he leaves marks along your thighs, too. Then, in complete contrast to everything else he’s done so far, Jungkook lightly kisses you over your panties.

You shiver. Oh he’s going to ruin you.

“Up.” He orders, and you obey. Jungkook unbuckles his pants, bringing out his thick member. “Come here, babe.” He orders with a playful smirk, and you’d be damned if you didn’t listen.

You lay down, taking his cock in your hand and licking up and down. You glance up at him every now and then, making him groan. You’re doing good, you know you are. And from the look Jungkook is giving you, you’ll be rewarded for it soon enough.

"Wow you look a lot better like that. Maybe it's because your annoying mouth is shut for once." You whine at his mean words but Jungkook chuckles. He cards his hands through your hair and brushes it back from your face. "Don't whine baby, I know you like it. I'll reward you soon enough."

“On your front, babe.” Jungkook orders once he feels good enough. You let him reposition you, lifting your hips to let him place a pillow under your hips. You hear him humming faintly, as if he’s just going about his day to day activities. But contrary to his humming are his deft fingers, which pull down your swim bottoms in one go. “Beautiful.” Jungkook compliments, unsnapping your bra with one hand.

You crane your head back, letting him kiss along the crook of your neck and down your back. “S-Sir.”

“Be patient, babe.” Jungkook warns you. “I said I’ll reward you, didn’t I?”

You whine, but stop as soon as you feel his hard member line up against your entrance. It slides up and down between your folds and then—

Then repeats. You wiggle your hips. Jungkook chuckles. His arm comes around your middle, pulling you up into a half-sitting position. “What? Want me?”

“Yes! Yes, sir!” You beg, but Jungkook has other plans.

“Hmm. Too bad I don’t have to listen to you.” Jungkook teases, continuing to run his member up and down, teasing your entrance. Then, when you’re least expecting it, he slides all the way into you, hard.

You clench around him immediately, and he hisses under his breath. “That’s it.” He praises you, thrusting into you hard while holding you up against him. You moan, hands down against the pillow. “You’ve been testing my patience all fucking day, babe. Looking all cute when you talk, dressing up all pretty. It’s so obvious you wanted me from the start.”

You whine. “Y-You knew?”

Jungkook growls in your ear. “Of course. I wanted to see how long it would take before you begged me. But instead you tried getting my attention with another fucking man.”

“B-But you talked to a girl too!” You try to argue between pants.

Jungkook chuckles. “I told her I wasn’t interested because I had a girl. A sweet girl that begs me to fuck her.”

You whimper, feeling your orgasm rising. “P-Please!” You cry out.

Jungkook’s hand snakes between your thighs, rubbing your clit for you. “Come, baby.” He lets you, his own hips picking up.

You come face down on the bed, ass up and pressed against your dom. You feel him come inside you, and you both sigh, relaxing at last.

After a long cuddle session and many sweet nothings muttered, Jungkook carries you to the bathroom where he helps you into the shower.

You let him clean you up and dress you, giving you sweet kisses and praise all the while.

“By the way, I hear there’s another party happening tomorrow. Since we’re here for the weekend anyway, we’re going.”

Jungkook laughs. “I hate parties. I’m not going.”

You pout. Jungkook lifts a brow. “Are you always this fucking cute?”

You smirk. “You’d have to marry me to find out.”

Jungkook rolls his eyes, giving you a smirk. “What am I, a pushover?”

As always, thanks for reading!

Navi

#bts x reader #bts fanfic #bts smut #jungkook x reader #jungkook x y/n #jungkook x you #jungkook fanfic #jungkook smut

331 notes · View notes

tkworks80 · 1 year

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~The Courting~

Spring was a beautiful time of year for you. The plum trees were filled with blossoms and they looked like pink and white clouds in your garden. You were happiest in the garden. “y/n!” your friend shouted from across the garden waving with excitement. y/n turned to her best friend “yes Chiyo?” you answered. Chiyo giggled “the matchmaker has arrived and a very handsome man along with him”. Getting up in a huff “I will not get married! I refuse!” you crossed your arms defiantly and started to walk towards your house. Walking up to the house you saw a petite gray-haired elderly man and a tall, red-haired, handsome somewhat older man, he looked like he was in his late twenties early thirties and he had a scar on his eye that made him look fierce. Waiting at the entrance you hid in a bush curious about who these gentlemen are and why they came calling to your residence. The front door opened and they walked in, you crept to the sitting room and tried to snoop on your father’s conversation. “Thank you for inviting us to your lovely home Lord l/n,” the red-haired man said to your father. “I’m glad that you gentlemen came and you are most welcomed,” your father greeted them, gesturing them to enter. Sitting down in the sitting room, Chiyo handed them all tea. “As you know I am the matchmaker and this gentleman is Enji Todoroki and he would like to ask you for y/n’s hand in marriage to join both your houses,” the elderly man said to your father. You looked at the red-haired man, he was very stoic, with a mean look to him. In anger, you quickly got up and slammed the sliding door open to the sitting room, and stepped in. “Father! I will not marry this man! He is more than 10 years my senior” you looked at the red-haired man in disgust. “y/n, leave this room immediately!” your father ordered you. “Such insolence! Are you sure you want to court this ill-tempered girl Todoroki-san?“ the matchmaker questioned and Enji nodded. In utter shock and disgust you looked at the elderly gray-haired man “I will not leave! What right does this man have to have the audacity to ask my hand in marriage when I am barely 18 years of age?” you questioned your father before turning to this man. “I refuse your offer, don't call for me ever again!” you ordered, then stomped out of the room. The red-haired man looked quite intrigued by your outburst in the sitting room and smiled to himself. Your father was profusely apologizing to him out of sheer embarrassment the y/n did in front of this distinguished gentleman. The Todoroki house was a prestigious and reputable family. And Enji was a fierce and temperamental Daimyo. He fought alongside Yagi Yoshinori and Keigo Takami; they stood for justice and peace throughout Japan. But, when he came back to his household his mother Teka kept on nagging him to take a wife. “Son it is high time to take a wife…to create an heir,” Teka stated. At first, he ignored his mother but, his mother was a fierce argumentative woman. Sometimes they argue throughout the night into the morning hours about getting a wife for him. Weeks passed and he pondered about taking a wife. She couldn’t just be any creature; she must be beautiful and had a mind of her own.

One day he was at a prestigious Ryokan when he overheard a couple of men talk about y/n’s coming of age for marriage and how she is the most beautiful woman throughout Shikoku. He must find out if it is true after all rumors are sometimes unfounded. One day while he was out for an afternoon walk he heard a girl yell out y/n’s name so he decided to follow the young maid. He saw y/n and he thought that y/n was the most beautiful woman he has ever met but argumentative because she argued with the young maid. “I’m not ready to go home...I want to stay to see the plum blossoms with my friends…please tell my father that I will be there shortly after I finish the viewing party” she instructed. Enji was amused to see y/n fiery personality; he was into docile, delicate ladies so, he surprised himself by going to her home and asking to court her. “The nerve of that man...asking for my hand in marriage!” she stomped in her room. “But y/n he is only 28 years of age and he is from a very good family” the young maid pleaded with you. “I do not care...undress me, I wish to sleep” she demanded. Before the young maid started to undress you the sliding door to your room slammed open and there before you was your very angry father. “How dare you! you’re such an insolent little fool!...do you realize that he came from a wealthy, influential family!... I accepted the courting process and that’s final!...do you understand?!” his voice was thunderous in your room you were flinching. “But, father, you are the Shogun, he has to respect you” you were sadly interrupted by your father, “do not use my position to intimidate Todoroki-san and that’s final!” he said, slamming the door shut, shaking the whole room.

The next day was very beautiful. You decided to walk around the garden and enjoy the Plum Blossoms. you sat down on the garden bench, basking in the warm sun. You closed your eyes and listened to the nearby birds chirping, the breeze brushing against the tree leaves. When all of a sudden you heard a very deep and gruff voice say “The blossoms are not as lovely as you are, y/n” you opened your eyes to see the same red-haired man from yesterday. Looking at him with disgust you quickly got up and started to walk to the farthest bench in the garden, not wanting him to follow you, you would think he would get the hint. Amused he followed you. “I do not wish to be followed by you,” you said to him. “But, I wish to get to know who I’m courting and get to know them,” he smirked. “No one is courting me...especially not you...now if you’ll excuse me, Todoroki-san” she said while walking back to her room. Grabbing y/n’s wrist he pulled her into an embrace. “My little blossom, you remember my name but alas, your dear father already approved of me courting you...so, that means I am courting you,” he explained to you. “I know what ‘courting’ means Todoroki-san…but, I am not interested,” you stated. “You act like you have a choice, my Plum Blossom,” Enji said while handing you a very beautiful hairpin. “This is for you,” he said. In shock you were speechless “my father did not say anything to me today nor yesterday” you stated. He grinned “does he need to discuss this with you…he is in fact the Shogun?” he questioned, amused. “I find you fascinating...y/n your an ill-tempered, very beautiful young lady, and I want you for my wife,” he said. “No, no, no...I don’t wish to be courted by an old man” you retorted and he gripped your wrist. you struggled to break free. “My name is Enji Todoroki...from the house of Todoroki and I am not that old,” he said letting you go. You quickly walked to your father’s sitting room, Enji followed after you. Looking back to see the amused look on his face made you want to vomit. You slammed the sliding door open to find your father talking to what you believe is Todoroki-san’s parents. You saw a very beautiful woman with flowing blonde streaked red hair and a cheerful older man with black hair. You now know who he got his features from. You now know who he got his features from. They all stood up “Daughter…I would like to introduce you to Teka and Yoshino Todoroki…they are here to discuss…” your father was interrupted by you. “Father, I refused yesterday…I do not wish to be courted,” you stated. “Dear…she reminds me of…” Yoshino reminded Teka. “Not a single word from you,” she said to her husband. “Dear…my son took interest in you because he knew you would fit into our household…what you feel is of no consequence to us…the bride price has been offered and your kind father has graciously accepted” Teka explained to you.

That night you were asleep in your quarters when you heard your door slide open slowly and heard someone crawl at the foot of your futon. It was Enji. “May I sleep with you?” he whispered. “No.” you hissed and he silently crept away. After that, you didn’t get a wink of sleep. The very next morning walking into the dining room you were confronted by your father. “Y/n…you are not to deny Todoroki-san’s offer,” he stated. “He crept in my room late last night like a venomous snake and when I said NO he slithered out,” she hissed. “That is the way…I did the same thing with your mother and she never denied me tonight you will NOT deny him…do I make myself clear?” he asked angrily. “Yes, father,” you answered. That afternoon you went back to the garden to bask in the sun and admire the blossom. You saw Enji from a distance. You sighed and ignored him but he was sighing obnoxiously loud so you proceeded to walk back to your room while Enji saw you. That night you did not sleep when your sliding door slid open slowly. The sound of crawling on the ground annoyed you. It was Enji at the foot of your bed. “May I sleep with you?” he asked. You sat upon your futon “my father told me not to deny you so…you can sleep by the chest of drawers,” you instructed and Enji frowned. That night you kind of silently giggled.

Walking to the dining room the next morning you were greeted by your father. “y/n, you're such a clever girl…you didn’t deny him…so you technically followed my instructions,” he smirked. That afternoon you were sitting in the library reading some poetry when Enji crept behind you. You knew he was behind you. “What do you want? Enji” you sighed. “I wish to know what you are doing,” he asked. “Isn’t it obvious?” you retorted while still reading. “You love books…I see…I have a library filled with poetry books…when you become my wife I will give it to you,” he offered while handing you a beautifully embroidered handkerchief. “Another gift…thank you,” you sighed and put it on the side. “I wished to have tea with you, my Plum Blossom,” he requested. “I just had my tea…thank you for offering but, I must decline,” you answered. “Shall we walk to admire the blossoms together then?” he asked. Slamming your book shut “why must you insist on courting me when I don’t show any interest in you?” you asked out of frustration. “Please walk with me…I will explain…this marriage is beneficial to both of us,” he answered. Intrigued, you stood up and followed him to the garden. “I need a wife to produce my heir. Once you produce an heir I will leave you alone…plus you will have a considerable amount of allowance at your disposal,” he said. “Sounds tempting…I’ll gladly accept your proposal except for one thing,” you answered while smiling. “And, what is that my Plum Blossom?” Enji asked, smiling. “I can’t be bought,” you frowned. “That’s sad…considering that my parents already sent the bride price to your father this morning and it’s set in stone…you will be my bride,” he said grinning.

#enji x reader #yandere enji todoroki #enji smut #yandere enji #arranged marriage #multiple marriages #violence

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youn9racha · 2 years

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The Black Dress

TW// FLASHING/FLICKERING LIGHTS

pairing: bf!han x gf!afab reader

genre: smut

synopsis: your boyfriend's birthday was coming up, and you, typically buying him gifts, lost track of time and forgot to get something. so you had to conjure up something to compensate, and you know just the thing...

warning: rushed smut rip, lowkey pwp, mentions of cumslut, breeding kink/cum play if only you squint, piv, unprotected sex (wrap before you tap), implied dumbification and corruption kink, ruined make-up (i think that's corruption as well but it deserves it separate warning), lingerie kink (?), dom!han, sub!reader, mentions of self-conscious reader (no body type mentioned though), degradation, slight spanking, mentions of multiple of orgasm, basically hannie doesn't hold back, open-ended aftercare.

words: 3.3k

a/n: so this is my contribution for hannie's birthday... happy birthday han !!! i made this fic in under four hours so this isn't my best, but its something 😞🙏 well regardless, hope my birthday boy has a wonderful birthday

This is no way representative of the way Stray Kids act. They’re nothing but references of character, and in no shape or form is this how they act. And I am in no way romanticizing or glamorizing any toxic behavior exhibited, they’re just stories that is meant to be read. Readers discretion is advised.

You were screwed.

You were convinced that you were the worst girlfriend in this entire world. Your ever so lovely, adorable, funny, god’s greatest gift of a boyfriend, Jisung’s, birthday was in a few days, and you haven’t had anything prepared. You cussed yourself out when you looked at the date, taunting you and reminding you how close his birthday is, and you haven’t thought of anything to give to him on his birthday. While Jisung wasn’t necessarily the materialistic kind, you still felt bad as he almost always gives you a birthday present on your birthday, and you would do the same.

When you get him a gift, he almost gives you the humblest response;

“Oh, baby, you shouldn’t have!”

“You really didn’t have to get me anything…”

“What would I do without you?”

Now the chances of you hearing these sweet words were slim and you can’t help but grimace at the fact that you probably won’t get him anything. Until you had this odd idea that you thought had been buried deep in your brain to no return, but it resurfaced once again.

Yes, you and Jisung have sex, as most sexually active couples would do, but often your sex was within the borders of vanilla and quickies. The most extreme you two had done was having sex at the bathroom—in Jisung’s bathroom at the dorms, where his roommates Chan, Hyunjin, and/or Changbin could walk in, but even then, none of them were home at that time. There wasn’t anything wrong, of course, having Jisung’s cock inside was enough for you to enjoy your time with him. However, he has been holding himself back and seemed like he wanted to do more with you but was too afraid that he’d either hurt you or scare you—which you think is a little bit too late, considering that he’d have to do something way too extreme for you to be scared or weirded out. Nevertheless, you thought just the thing that could compensate for your lack of a physical gift within a short time.

---

September 14

It was finally that day, the day your favorite human being was born twenty-two years ago, and you couldn’t wait for the gift you were about to give him. Rather than an actual gift, you decided to make him a nice dinner, along with a small cake customized for him for you two to share and eat. Despite his loud and energetic presence, he never liked big loud parties and he expressed so many times that he could celebrate in only two ways; either with you and his members or just with you—no more than that. And it seems that he wanted to celebrate with the second option since he informed you that he and the members will celebrate it a day late, so he and Felix could celebrate their respective birthdays together and instead will celebrate his main birthday with you, which thankfully made your plans much easier.

He was still at work meanwhile you prepared your dinner. You decided to wear the prettiest black dress you own, the one that Jisung often tells you how gorgeous you look in. Although you don’t wear it very often, it has become Jisung’s favorite since he constantly asks you to wear it and thought it suits your body so well. You thought it was just the sheer excitement and horniness he has when he expressed what he said, but when you looked at yourself in that dress and the way it hugged your body beautifully, you understood why he constantly asks for you to wear it.

Doubled by the fact that you were wearing lingerie that honestly did nothing to conceal but more to tease. Through the slit of the dress, your garter was shown, but you didn’t mind, as you knew it may drive him even more crazy. You did your hair and make-up—you purposely wore non-waterproof mascara and non-smudge proof lipstick for the occasion—and you thought if Jisung wouldn’t fuck you as soon he gets into the door, which you doubt, then he’d be a fool for missing out.

You were busy admiring yourself that you nearly ignored your vibrating phone had it not for the rumbling noise annoying your eardrum. You picked it up and you saw it was Jisung’s text.

Jisung: Hey babe !! I just got done with practice with the boys and I’m on my way !!

Jisung: Can’t wait for what you had for me when I walk in ;)

While you knew he was just playing and teasing in the last message, you couldn’t help but feel like your stomach dropped due to your nervousness. You didn’t want to self-doubt yourself; you knew Jisung wouldn’t be mad at you for not getting him a physical gift, but you can’t help but have guilt pile up in your stomach. You shook your head and reassured yourself that everything will be fine and that if he didn’t want this, then you’ll promise him a shopping spree and he can spend all your money on whatever items he wants.

You sighed as you went and prepared your dinner. You cooked up his favorite meal and brought him his favorite drink as well. The cake sat in the fridge as it cooled down, it wasn’t the most elaborate nor the fanciest cake, but it was certainly a pretty birthday cake that has his favorite flavor. You already placed the “22” candle on the cake so when he eats, you’ll light it up and give him the cake before you proceed with the plan.

As you finally finished with the dinner set and lighting up the candle, you heard the door lock being opened and the door creaked as the figure entered the house.

“Hey, babe! I’m home—” Jisung’s voice cut off as he sees the romantically dimly lit room, the fancy dinner set, and then you, you in full beauty and glory. His mouth was opened wide, letting out quick gasps and a smile as he was surprised by the atmosphere. You smiled as he got closer to you, “Happy birthday, Ji…” you kissed his cheek, letting him inhale your natural scent mixed with perfume through your neck.

His eyes went back to you with a flabbergasted smile, “you did all this?”

You nodded back and hummed an affirmative sound, enjoying his excited reaction at the dinner set and looking at the deliciously presented food before his eyes went back to you. He looked like he was about to say something, but he then looked back at the dress you were wearing. His eyes began their trail from your exposed collarbone down to the slit of the dress, which exposed your black garter, making him blush and giggle.

“You’re wearing the dress…” He said, smirking at the sight as he turned his body to you, his arms wrap around your body, and pulling you closer. You only smiled back with a shrug, silently telling, or rather teasing him, that it was just a dress. He pulled you in for a kiss as his hands went lower down your back, it was slow yet passionate, which made you instantly pull away so you wouldn’t smudge your lipstick and not escalate your plan sooner.

“No, Ji, we have to eat first,” you giggled at how handsy he is getting and how your red lipstick stained his lips. He pouted, “C’mon, baby, I’m so tired, and I just want to get to be with you—“ he faked crying and plead as he attempted to get his hand on the garter but you slapped his hand away.

“I know, Ji, I know but I cooked your favorite meal and I want you to have a taste before it gets too cold…”

“Well, I don’t know what you’re talking about, when my favorite meal is standing right in front of me is always hot—Ow!” His flirting words got replaced by an exaggerated exclaim from your lightly punching him in the chest and pushing him in the process. You chuckled and ordered him to sit and eat, which he did so while looking at you affectionately. You sat right across him, observing him and eating him up with your eyes rather than the food in front of you.

You observe how beautiful he is even whilst eating his food, how his full cheeks take in the food, his muscular arm slight flex when used to cut the food, the way his hand wrapped around the drink when he goes in for a sip, you were looking at him as if he was the most beautiful man in the world, and he is in your world. He noticed your gaze, which made him smile at you, “what?”

You scrunched your nose in a smile as you shook your head, “oh nothing… just at how pretty you are.” His brows narrow as he smiles nervously, “what do you have in plan, Ms. (l/n)?” he asked as he saw you standing with a smirk on.

“Oh, nothing too big, just wanting to give my boyfriend the best birthday gift of his life…” You leaned in and pecked him on the cheek, giving him a kiss mark, “don’t go anywhere, I’ll be right back.”

And off you went to the kitchen and left Jisung alone with his thoughts. His food was nearly neglected when you left as you left him a mark—literally, but he still doesn’t know that—especially in that damn dress that he admires you in. He remembered the day you bought it; you were self-conscious about the way you looked in it since it was a dress out of your comfort zone, you sighed as you called Jisung for his opinion. When he walked in and sees you in that black fabric, he nearly dropped his phone on his phone as he sees you. You looked beautiful in that dress, and when he sees how you were holding into your arm as if to indicate your uncertainty, he wished he could push away your arms and show you how pretty you looked.

But he didn’t want to push you, so he resorted to kissing you, praising you, and asking about it every time you go out, and thankfully, both of you were glad you ended up keeping it, especially from your side. As Jisung was spaced out, he didn’t realize that you came out of the kitchen until you began singing to him happy birthday, which made him shake his head as he looked at you with surprised wide eyes. Instead of the dress, you showed up with the cake in hand, and in you came with a robe—yes, you hid a robe and the dress somewhere in the kitchen so you could dress up quickly. Once you got closer and about to close off the song, you sat on Jisung’s lap and placed the candlelit cake between the two of you.

You smiled at him sweetly, “make a wish, Hannie…”

It was difficult to close his eyes when your beauty was emanating into the room even brighter than the candle lights. When he sees you raising your brows in encouragement, he closed his eyes and quickly blew the candles letting the smoke disperse into the air in an instant. You cheered as you placed the cake on the table and wrapped your arms around his neck as your gaze met his. Both of you mirrored the lustful yet loving gaze towards each other, but you still didn’t want to feed in yet.

“Do you wanna unwrap your gift or—”

“Yes, please!” Jisung spoke, interrupting your question without hesitation making you laugh at his eagerness, “birthday boy couldn’t for his gift, I see?” you giggled as you ruffled his hair before standing up. The bow you tied in your robe was within his eye level, making him look up to you to wait for your next move.

“Unwrap your present birthday boy.” Your tone was much sultry than your previous maternal voice, making Jisung’s eyes both darkened and gleam in excitement. His hands reached to your bow and his fingers pulled it off, letting the strands fall against your body, as the robe slowly and teasingly revealed your surprise. He looked up at you, and you nodded, encouraging him to proceed with unwrapping you, his gift. When he pushed off the robe there you exposed the lingerie your dress hid perfectly—aside from your garter. It was sheer material, meaning Jisung could see all the parts he had seen previously, but this time in a way he never would have thought of seeing you in real life, and boy, was he glad that his fantasies were becoming a reality.

“Well, birthday boy, are you gonna sit here and observe your present, or are you gonna do something with it and use me?”

---

You were glad that you screwed up and forgot to get him something tangible.

The regret, guilt, and insecurity in your face and head disappeared as soon as Jisung carried you into your room, with his lips attached to you. During the make-out, he caught a glimpse of his kiss-marked face from the reflection of the mirror, smirking as he notices why you wore the makeup in the first place. He pulled away from you as he lays you down, and him getting on top of you.

“So, I see you wanted to mark me, huh?” His voice was raspy from his yearning to just take you and ruin you on the spot. Before you could speak, he dragged his thumb across your bottom lips, staining and smudging your lips, the red pigment reached to your chin thanks to his thumb gathering and spreading it across your skin. You’ve accelerated his desire to destroy even more, even shown when he practically ripped your lingerie off but left the garter on you, as he wanted to see you in it as he rams himself in you, and it was a promise he was sure he wasn’t going to break.

And he kept with that promise, as of right now, he placed you on your hands and knees facing the mirror that reflected Jisung’s feral imagination coming to life, with your makeup-stained face thanks to Jisung’s previous sessions that made you cry out in pleasure and ruin your makeup and way of speech.

“You can handle another one, baby, I bet you can…” The way he spoke to you was straight filth, but you mewled at it as you anticipated his cock filling up your walls once again, almost as if your pussy has become more reliant on it the more he inserts it, and the more you came around him. “My sweet cumslut,” he whispered as he slaps your ass, making you yelp out a squeal at the smack.

He snickers at your cute reaction as he began thumbing your swollen clit while aligning his cock against your soaking wet hole, making you throw your head into the mattress as you whine against the sheets. Jisung gripped your hair firmly and made your head face the mirror, showing off your ruined face. He leaned into your ears, making eye contact with you through the mirror, “you better take a look at yourself as I fuck your little pussy… got it?” His voice was low and threatening, especially doubled with the sharp gaze he was giving you through the mirror.

When you couldn’t answer back instantly, he pulled your hair once again, but this time he harshly shoves his cock in you, making you yelp at the sudden action. “I said, look at yourself,” he gritted his teeth as this time he looked at you in the face, trying to see if you opened your eyes. When you did open your eyes and looked at the mirror, if you were in your normal state of mind, you would have thought that you looked like a hot mess. But since your brain was fucked to the point it shut down, all you could focus is worshipping Jisung and his cock.

Jisung let go of your hair and leaned back, slapping your ass once again as he observes the way your pussy was swallowing his cock so well. He smirked before looking back at you, making you look up at him with pleading eyes, hoping he can move in the next second.

“Fuck yourself against me.”

His tone was as sharp as a knife, and you felt it graze against your skin as you felt goosebumps going across your body. “Okay, Hannie,” you spoke in a soft tone as you did what was told. You leaned yourself back and forth, making you whine at the way you pushed your hips against his. It may be because you were weak or maybe because you enjoyed the way Jisung’s moved against yours, but you wanted Jisung to fuck you as hard as he did before.

But there he was, static, as he looks at you menacingly with a smirk, seeing you suffering underneath him. All that whining, moaning, and pouting, as well as pushing yourself even further in the hopes of him moving against you, but he stayed still.

At this point you started to cry, “Hannie… please fuck me… please fill me up once again… you do it so much better…” your pleads within your sobs were pathetic, to say the least, but it nearly broke Jisung and he almost caved in.

“Are you telling the birthday boy what to do?” he taunted with an evil smirk while you shook your head with a sob, black tears started to fall once again from your mascara down your cheeks. “No! No! You’re in full control! I am yours and yours only and only you could fuck me so good!”

Your cries were even more pitiful than the last one, but it seemed to work this time as Jisung gripped your hips, and then he started to gain control over your hips once again. The way your skin slapped against his thanks to the way he rapidly rammed his cock into yours, making the two of you moan at the feeling.

The combination of the wet sounds along with your and his blissed voices could make a neighbor complain about how loud it is, but it was the last thing you two cared about, too consumed from the amazing feeling you two are experiencing, especially with how you felt your peak was approaching from the way your stomach was heating up.

“Hannie… I’m so close—fuck!” you managed to moan out, strings of cusses and whines escaping your lips. With the way his hips started give out slightly, it seems as though he wasn’t far either. “I’m close too, baby… come with me…”

As he spoke, his words broke into high pitched moans, as after a few thrusts, he began painting your walls white with his cum, filling you up to the brim with its white warm contents. Not long after, you too reached your orgasm, making you drop your head and top body to the mattress, panting for air, while Jisung pulled away and laid next to you. After a few minutes of grasping for air, Jisung turns his head to you, places his hand behind your head and massages it.

“Are you alright? Did I hurt you?” He softly asked, concern was also laced in the question. You turned your head to him and gave him a dopey smile, “yeah, I feel amazing… what about you?”

He giggled at your reaction, “oh, I feel great,” he responded back, matching your energy, making you laugh. You two then spent in silence, lovingly staring each other, enjoying the silence as you flipped yourself in your back before leaning in to kiss Jisung’s lips.

While the passion and fire were present, it was more chaste and romantic than the previous kisses you two had.

“Happy Birthday, Hannie.” You spoke through the kiss with a smile, adoration present in both the eyes and lips.

Jisung smiled back loving, “Thank you, baby… this was the best birthday present I’ve ever received…”

“Yeah, it better be!” you exclaim, half-jokingly, making the two of you laugh.

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nanowrimo · 2 years

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Lessons from a Twenty-Year NaNoWriMo Run

What lessons have you learned during your experiences doing NaNoWriMo? Long-time participant Kathy Kitts shares some of the takeaways from her impressive twenty-year streak of writing novels:

NaNoWriMo has always been an important part of my November, but this year it’s more so. It will mark my twentieth win in a row. (If I make it. No pressure.)

When HQ found out about this big milestone, they asked me to describe the lessons learned over the years as a participant, Municipal Liaison (a.k.a. ML, a volunteer regional leader), ML mentor, site debugger, ML handbook contributor, fundraiser, translator, and occasional MOD. (If you stick around long enough, nonprofit organizations will always find something for you to do.) I agreed. Why? Because NaNoWriMo has had such a profound influence on me, it actually altered the direction of my life.

2003 – The First Year. At the time, I was a planetary science postdoc and should have been concentrating on my research, but I was tired of writing about what is. I wanted to write about what if. Except, what if I failed? Taking no chances, I told no one. Under the name Apollo16, NaNoWriMo became my late-night secret. And I won! I donated out of gratitude and got a tiny little pin that read: I WRITE BOOKS. Nah! It was a fluke, a one-off. That “s” was a problem.

2004 – October Is For Preparation. This is when I learned about crockpots. You could make a bunch of soups and stews and freeze the leftovers. I won and treated myself to a chest freezer. You know, in case I tried for a third year. (And yes, that sucker is still running.)

2005 – The Magic of Write-ins. Being brave, I told a few friends about this November writing thingy, and we had our own unofficial write-in. I fetched my “I WRITE BOOKS” pin and wore it to our celebration party. Three was a big enough plural.

2006 – Cheap Halloween Candy and Perth, Australia. As a newly minted ML, I passed out pixy stix at every write-in. (Or as it is known in Wrimo circles, Writer’s Crack.) As for Perth, our two regions fought word wars, exchanged care packages, and egged each other on. I can still taste the Tim Tams, and they are probably still buzzing from the pixy stix.

2007 – Some People Lack Imagination. While running a word war, a Wrimo yelled out, “How much time do we have? I have to kill someone.” I shouted back, “Seven minutes. I could kill billions in seven minutes.” All twenty plus writers whooped in agreement. A woman who had just purchased her coffee stared at us in horror. She backed out of the coffee shop not daring to stop and collect her change.

2008 – The Muse and Flexibility. Many Wrimos have significant others who are not writers. Shocking but true. To make them feel loved before we utterly abandoned them for a month, we hosted a Halloween party from 9 to 12. At 12:01 AM November 1, we pulled out the power strips, sent the non-writers packing, and started typing. Up to this point, I’d always considered myself a “plotter.” Such a hardcore plotter, I once calculated the amount of CO2 in the atmosphere of an alien world to get the weather I wanted. With my stack of notes at the ready, prepared to bang out my 1667, a little boy appeared, saying, “You have to tell my story.” I argued, “But I have all these orbital calculations!” Didn’t matter. I learned not to argue with the muse and that flexibility makes winning easier.

2009 – How to Suck It Up. That was a terrible slog of a year. I really wasn’t feeling it. I was farting around on the forums when I met a Wrimo who had to finish early. Why? She was deployed in Iraq. She had put her novel on a CD, handed it to her CO, who returned to the base, and uploaded it for her so she could win. Yeah, no inspiration there. I faked a cough to get out of a faculty meeting to make my word count.

2010 – The Reach of NaNoWriMo. To make new friends after my move, I volunteered at the local community library. I was shelving books, when someone shouted, “Apollo16! Is that you? Mom! It’s Apollo16!” I recognized one of my Young Writers from Chicago. Her family had moved a couple of months before I had. She dragged over her mother and explained how excited she was to still have her Wrimo friends. Her mother gave me the eyeball and said, “You know, she’s going to be a writer now. It’s all your fault.” I grinned. “No, ma’am. It’s Chris Baty’s fault.”

2011 – Debugging and Love. With the growth of NaNoWriMo worldwide, the old website just couldn’t hack it. After some fundraising, we moved on from Druenemy (okay, Drupal but that’s not what we called it) to Ruby on Rails. We had a massive “debugger” team that spanned the globe. We slew bugs like they were dragons and we were Knights of the Round Table. Few organizations could ask and get so many volunteers to donate so much time and resources. It was awe-inspiring.

2012 – No Plot No Problem v. 2. Chris Baty asked a bunch of the MLs to provide quotes for his second edition of No Plot No Problem. All the lessons I’ve learned can be found in that book. While you wait for it to be delivered, here are three I shared with him. (1) Buy lots of underwear for the entire family so you won’t have to do as much laundry. (2) Rack up a bunch of childcare credits early in the fall. That way they are beholden to you and can’t weasel when November rolls around. (3) As for the transition to normal life, sometimes it doesn’t happen. Sometimes you get the strength to retire early or change careers so you can continue to write. This quote will haunt me later.

2013 – The Year I Tried To Cheat. I decided to turn one of my scripts into a novel. Should be simple, right? Nope. At day 18, I hit the wall. The script was a script and not a novel. Panicked, after this long of a run, I had to win! I was an ML, a mentor! So, I did what I’ve told countless other Wrimos to never do. I deleted the whole dang thing, all 30,00 words. On day 19, I came clean and started over with a blank page. I made 50,284 at 11:52 PM on Nov. 30.

2014 –The Night Of Writing Dangerously. The year I finally got to attend. To go to San Francisco. To have dinner in that fantastic ballroom. To sew a costume for the grand event. Unfortunately, I had just developed a food allergy. How could I go and not be able to eat? Grant Faulkner and Sarah Mackey invited me to come up to the buffet table and serve myself first to avoid cross-contamination. The staff of the Office of Letters and Light didn’t just care about writing, but about the writers too. Did I win that night and get to ring the bell? No. I wrote a total of six words. Yet, I was so inspired, I finished early. I didn’t have to hide in the bathroom with my laptop during Thanksgiving like all the other years.

2015 – The Grad Student Figures It Out. When you are the prof, you get to make up the syllabus and control the timeline. For years, mysteriously, there were few tests, problem sets, or projects due in November. Occasionally, one of my grad students would join me for NaNo. In the middle of a write-in, one such grad student jumped to their feet and shouted, “Oh my god! It was never about us! About being nice to us during crunch month! It was always about NaNoWriMo!” Duh.

2016 – Lack of Imagination Part II. That year at our write-in, a guy walked into our section with his food, shot us a judgy glare as we typed, and plunked down opposite my table. A new Wrimo began to cry. I asked her, “Are you okay?” “Yes,” she sniffled, “I just killed someone. I’m embarrassed.” “Oh don’t worry, we all cry when we kill someone. It means you’re doing a great job.” The guy’s eyebrows met his hairline and he hustled right back from whence he came. For the record, this time, we did have signs up everywhere.

2017 – Catch-22. This is the year I started to teach creative writing on the side. Being new and unknown, I feared nobody would sign up. My Wrimo buddies filled the class. I told them how grateful I was. They said the joke was on me. “Now, you have to read all of our novels.” D’oh!

2018 – The Prof Figures It Out. That was the year I taught NaNoWriMo. Got paid to do what I was going to do anyway.

2019 – Website and Young Writer Redux. Technology marches on and we fundraised for yet another website that folded NaNo, Camp, and Young Writer’s into one place. Speaking of young writers, remember the girl from 2010? She got a novel published, and dedicated it to her Wrimo support group.

2020 – 2021 The COVID Years and Family. I was never worried about the survival of the Office of Letters and Light. The support runs too deep, but what of the local groups without in-person events? Silly me, the pivot went without a hitch. We ended up having Zoom write-ins for thirty days straight during both Novembers. Even on Thanksgiving. Why? Because we’d become family. But mostly, because we didn’t force anyone to eat lime Jell-O with an expired can of fruit cocktail suspended inside it like a scene from The Blob.

2022 – Twenty Years and A Million Words. According to my lifetime word counter, I have written 1,380,023 words. However, that number includes all my revisions from Camp. In my heart of hearts, I know I won’t break 1,000,000 until this November. Malcolm Gladwell suggests that we become experts at the 10,000-hour mark of working our craft. Several writers have translated that as 1,000,000 words. I’ve been selling my work since 2010, but with 1,000,000 words so close, I have faith that some of those words might be good words.

Remember, up at the top of this stroll down memory lane, I mentioned how NaNoWriMo altered the course of my life? After twenty plus years as a planetary geologist, I have retired. This fall I will be starting over as a graduate student in an MFA program in Creative Writing. But this time, it isn’t entirely Chris Baty’s fault. It’s Grant Faulkner’s too. He wrote one of my letters of rec.

See ya in November!

Dr. Kathy Kitts, AKA Apollo16, is a planetary geologist who has served as a science team member on the NASA Discovery Mission Genesis among others. Her latest speculative short fiction has appeared in Compelling SF, James Gunn’s Ad Astra, and Amazing. She has a collection of stories titled Getting What You Need available worldwide on Amazon. Born and raised in the desert southwest, she is moving from New Mexico to Alaska mostly because she isn’t dead yet.

Top photo by Nils Stahl on Unsplash.

#nanowrimo #writing #amwriting #national novel writing month #by nano guest #kathy kitts #nanowrimo experience

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