#i have a LOT of issues with how her eyes turned out I did not realize the pen I used to like would bleed
Note
Had a terribly great thought! The Ghoul and reader traveling together. She's a brat but loyal as a dog to that man. They get into a pretty bad fight and she storms off and he's too proud to follow after her, struggling with coming to terms that he's actually soft for her even though he's mean as hell. She finds him some days later, with her tail tucked between her legs. He's not surprised, comparing her to a female dog often. 👀 still, he's going to make sure she's sorry. Lots of groveling on her part, maybe some face slapping, boot licking, he gets off, she doesn't. Ends with her in his lap. Hair petting and praise for coming back to who she belongs to.
As A Dog
Pairing: Cooper Howard/The Ghoul x Female Reader
Word Count: 7,085
Warnings: smut (18+), DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT, Jealous!Cooper, canon-typical violence, intimacy issues, angst, insecurity, slightly fucked conceptions of love and loyalty, pet play-ish activity, hard drug use, forced intoxication, shotgunning, slapping, boot licking, oral sex (male receiving), face fucking, rough sex, riding, cannibalistic thoughts, orgasm denial (female), breeding kink, creampie.
Notes: I had several pieces in line in front of this one and then this prompt reached through my screen, sunk its teeth into my brain, and shook me until this came out. It really is a terribly great thought. Tagging heavy, since the themes/Cooper's mentality may be triggering for some. It is what it says on the can, folks.
I dunno what unholy demon you've unleashed on me here, Anon. But bless you for it. Another Coop POV because I have a problem. Thanks for the patience on this one; I've been doing some admin stuff the last few days, including setting up an AO3 that you can find here, where I'll be uploading all the long-form stuff. Enjoy!
Cooper's trigger finger was itchier today than it had been for a long time.
He was fully aware that he'd never be able to stop every man left in the world from talking to his little vaultie companion, but boy, he sure would love to try. On an average day, he struggled to hold his tongue as she drove away her own sun-baked suitors, standing silently aside until called up to defend her, no matter how badly he wanted to reduce whomever was bothering her to nothing.
Today was a worse-than-average day, and the girl wasn't helping anything, herself.
"Are you gonna be ready to go any time soon, princess?" he asked her acerbically as she passed by him for the millionth time, tossing his current cigarette down to the ground.
He'd intended to stop at this shitty little settlement, little more than a dingy bighorner ranch at first glance, for a few minutes at most, just long enough to unload some things and check to see if they had any vials on hand. Here it was, nearly four hours of glad-handing and chit-chatting and unnecessary gun repairs later, and he was still leaning against the same crumbing wall, still angrily smoking. She was pushing it.
"Oh, be patient." she shot back, rolling her eyes as she turned to saunter back to the little ramshackle counter. "I'm waiting for my gun back and I was having a nice chat with the mechanic. Try to be pleasant for five minutes, would you?"
She was so full of shit, he thought as he snuffed the still-glowing smoke butt out beneath the toe of his boot with just a little more force than necessary. Typically, she shied away from male attention at her most demure, refusing to acknowledge most advances, playing innocent, playing dumb. The big doe eyes and soft voice didn't hurt on that front, but usually didn't deter the more steadfast predators.
He preferred the days where she had a little extra spitfire, when she told them clearly and loudly to fuck off, no doubt emboldened by having the rather intimidating ghoul hanging over her shoulder, silently encouraging her as she did it. In the past, she had proven that she wasn't above evoking his capacity for violence as a threat when the desert trash was persistent, and it gave him a thrill he couldn't identify, one that ruminated deep in his gut.
That same gut feeling was burning him now, eating a hole in his patience as he watched her listening attentively to the third scrawny young man who'd approached her as she waited around the repair hutch to yap her ear off. She nodded and smiled politely, even laughed from time to time (the sound of which made him want to shoot he kid between the eyes just for that), but kept a respectful distance. Clearly, she'd finally learned that the sort of over-friendliness that she'd been raised with in the vaults could be read differently up here. The young buck, however, continued to try and dance into her space as he spoke animatedly, and, eventually, she reached out and quickly touched his chest.
The old cowboy was stomping across the sand to her before he was even aware he was moving.
His logical brain could see very clearly what had happened: the boy had advanced into her space for the half-dozenth time and she'd put her palm out to gently rebuke him, distracting him from the rejection with a laugh at whatever he'd said. But that part of his brain was rather quiet after a long afternoon of watching her rather blatantly flirt with the asshole she was having repair her plasma pistol (something that she would typically have him do, since it wouldn't cost her anything, and he almost certainly could do with equal or superior adequacy), and letting every other little piss-ant farmhand in the next mile radius chat her up.
"We're hitting the road in five. Get your shit and let's go." he hissed to her, ignoring the little scowl she shot him as he interrupted her newest conversation with the willowy, greasy mechanic, who was sliding her her pistol back across the knotted wood of the semi-exposed countertop. Flashing him that brilliant smile, the one that he wanted to be only for him, she checked the thing over before tucking it back into the holster she kept on her hip, pushing a stash of caps in a metal tin back his way. The old cowboy watched with inflamed indignation as the fucker opened the box, dug out a massive handful, and tucked them back into her hands, letting his own linger across her skin as he placed them back into her palms.
Frankly, he was impressed he was able to let her drop the things back into her bag before he grabbed her by the arm, none too gently, and wordlessly began to yank her back down the road, back in the direction they'd originally been heading in. He could've shoved the damn things in himself and just dragged her along; it wasn't like he was unfamiliar with where she put them. The long, sleepless nights could be boring, and early on, he'd been curious enough about her to nose through her things once or thrice. That, like this, had been quite illuminating.
"Oh, you're being such a prick today!" she yelled, yanking at his grip in an attempt to free herself. He humored her, dropping her arm and turning to face her, unpleasantly surprised as the last farmhand she'd been chatting with, the one she'd touched, came running up.
"Hey, leave her alone!" he yelled. Or, he would have, if he'd had a chance to finish.
The sound of Cooper's rifle butt cracking into the kid's face was incredibly satisfying, collapsing him into a limp, useless pile on the ground, deep crimson pooling around where he lie face-down in the dirt. The girl didn't scream, probably surprised that he hadn't outright shot him, but her hands did fly to her mouth in a quick moment of silent shock before she kneeled to quickly check his pulse, rolling his ugly mug to face the sun. Blood poured from his obviously broken nose, leaving the old ghoul wiping at his face to cover the smirk it sent twitching across his lips.
"What did you do that for?!" she demanded, frustration clear in her voice.
"Oh, my apologies, sweetheart. Your little boyfriend there was trying to join a party he wasn't invited to." he replied, though she was clearly ignoring him in favor of turning the boy onto his side and examining him.
His little companion let out a huff, casting a look between the body on the ground and the little cluster of buildings they'd just left. After a moment, she grabbed him by the fabric of his shirt the best she could and began to drag him back towards where he'd come from. The ghoul watched her pull him about five feet, red and huffing by the time she made it there, rolling his eyes deeply.
"Leave him. He'll be fine."
"He won't be if no one comes over to collect him soon, and you know it." she snarled, and her tone sent him seething, snatching the kid up over his shoulder like a sack of spuds and stomping ahead of her, depositing him unceremoniously against the ranch's handmade sign before yanking her along with him once again.
"Y'know, if you'd have just gotten in and out like I told you, that wouldn't have happened." he said eventually, dropping her arm once more.
"Oh, fuck you!" she hissed. "I was trying to see if I could talk him down on the price. And sometimes people know useful things, you know!" she yelled, exasperation clear in her tone as she threw her arms up in the air.
She pretended to be ignorant, but clearly knew what he was upset about before he specified. Interesting.
"Oh, I'm sure. Y'know, I'd wondered how long it was gonna take you to start sellin' that little ass of yours. Figured it would be for something nicer than a pistol repair or some bad intel, at least." he sneered. He could feel himself slipping further from rationality.
"What are you talking about? It wasn't even like that!" she insisted, an edge of something more worrisome creeping into her voice.
"Quit playin' dumb, doll. You make it seem too easy." he said, watching her entire face light up bright red in frustration. She was tersely quiet for a minute, the gears in her head clearly turning hard and fast as she worked to contain herself and formulate a response at the same time.
"I'm sick of you getting pissed off and treating me like I'm the stupidest person you've ever met." she spat, eventually, madder than he'd ever seen her. "I'm sorry that I haven't spent enough bitter fucking years walking around the desert and killing things and being an asshole to know everything like you do, Coop. I'm sorry I still have human emotions and desires. My sincerest fucking apologies."
That was it: the argument had officially become about...something else.
Honestly, he'd assumed that she was going to leave him a few days back, when they'd stayed in a rare hotel room waiting for a bad dust storm to settle, the little thing getting just a tad too tipsy on some whiskey he'd given her before trying to kiss him. He'd rebuffed her, though not as gently as he wished he had, and, feeling bold, she'd pushed back with surprising fervor, basically demanding to know why he wouldn't kiss her more, why he wouldn't sleep with her.
True, he felt closer to her than he'd felt to anyone or anything in a long while, and he thought she was the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen, but, as embarrassing as it was, the idea of being expected to perform sexually so suddenly made him feel a seizing sense of panic that he wasn't sure he'd ever felt before.
What he'd wanted to say was "I care about you so much, but I'm not sure I'm ready to take that step." Instead, what had come out was "Why are you buggin' me about this? I said no. Fuck off." followed by him storming out to spend several hours smoking in the decrepit, junk-walled-in parking lot.
When he'd returned, she'd been asleep, her poor face tear-swollen and red. He'd waited for her to rouse and hash it out with him, but she'd slept through the night, and, the next morning, didn't bring it up or seem amenable to discussing it. She hadn't seemed angry, necessarily, perhaps a little sad, but in the few days that had passed since, she had definitely been colder, poutier than usual.
It seemed, to him, that she was punishing him now for not doing what she'd wanted, and it was pissing him off.
It didn't matter that he hadn't fucked her yet, that he didn't feel ready to expose the most vulnerable parts of him, inside and out, so openly. She was his; she belonged to him and she knew it as much as he did. The fact that she was even still traveling with him after all this time, after what happened at the hotel that night, was proof. She proved it every single time she came back from one of her little stomp-offs every time he ticked her off, lacking the wherewithal to ever even move fully out of sight before slinking down to pout awhile, inevitably peeking out from whatever she was hiding behind to see if he was still there. Despite her lack of proper training, she was a loyal little bitch.
The fact that she suddenly didn't want to act accordingly sat entirely wrong in his mind, wriggled under his skin like when his stash ran low.
"All's I'm saying, princess," he growled, throwing out the nickname he knew she loathed once more, "is that you're too fucking friendly for your own good, and you shouldn't be shocked when it gets people hurt."
"Why would you give a shit who I'm friendly to, anyway?" she spat, suddenly pushing her way right into his bubble and sending him baring his teeth.
"I wouldn't. Didn't I made that clear enough the other night?"
He knew that this particular barb would hurt her, but he genuinely didn't expect what she did next.
"Alright, then." she said; her voice was trembling noticeably, as was her lower lip. With that, she snatched her backpack up from the ground, jammed her arms into the straps, turned, and began to walk back towards the way they'd come from. He watched her silently, waiting for her to duck back into the ranch, but she didn't; instead, she kept walking, as long as he could watch her, until she disappeared over the hill that fed into the horizon.
The old man watched her go, dumbfounded as she actually continued to walk instead of stopping as she always did. For a while, he hung around, waiting for her to come huffing back, but she still hadn't by the time the sun had fully sunk out of the sky. Eventually, he resumed moving himself, stopping after about a mile in their original planned direction, settling down for a grating night of looking out over the road at every little noise.
She'd never even looked back. He couldn't shake that thought from his mind as he sat there resting overnight. It was basically the only thought he had for hours, plaguing him as he puffed his inhaler and watched the world around him brighten with the rising sun.
When the next day started in full, he'd resolved to hit the road, to resume his travels as he would be resuming his existence before the girl had come along. Compared to how long he'd been exploring the desert solo, she'd been but a brief blip in his life, and there was no reason to fret so much over where she'd gone or what could happen to her without him around.
For some reason, he only covered about half the ground he would typically cover on a day like this, and he found himself beyond unreasonably frustrated...with himself. Nothing about the conditions was slowing him down; he didn't run into more trouble than usual, and he was fine on supplies, vials, but for some reason he found himself hypervigilant, looking for any excuse to move up high and scan the road with his binoculars.
By the time it was too dark to safely continue, he was seething once again, but at his weakness, at his cowardice. After he chose a tucked away little corner to settle down in for a few hours, he quite literally couldn't dig into his stash fast enough, doing line after line, hit after hit of whatever he had on him, until the horrible pain he felt behind his breastbone melted away into a familiar, soothing numbness.
But his numb mind liked to wander, and soon he found himself thinking about the softness of her voice, her skin, her lips against his that night...
And, quickly, he was back to pain and anger, but an irrational anger fueled by a far-more than reasonable dose of basically every kind of stimulant known to Wasteland man. This pain, too, was chased away with more and more chems, until he was so fucked up that he could barely keep his eyes focused and open.
She truly did plague him now, just as she had all the months she'd traveled with him. She plagued his thoughts at all points in the day, plagued his worries about the future, and even as he attempted to snort and huff himself free of the thought of her, she plagued him, dancing up along beside him in a quiet, stalking creep, watching him daintily from the end of the rotted log he sagged himself on, his back wedged against the large rock cluster behind him. At some point, he'd tugged his gloves off and shucked them somewhere nearby, leaving him feeling quite naked as his hands fretted with themselves absentmindedly. Against his will, he thought about running them through her hair like he'd wanted to for so long, and the unpleasant flip his stomach did made him sigh.
"I'm sorry." came a voice on the breeze, so much like hers. The visions of her were persistent, annoyingly so, the one staring hauntingly at him from the side really starting to unsettle him. He was no stranger to visual and auditory hallucinations when he was this far gone, but she was so solid-looking out of the corner of his eye, watching him so close. Judging him and what a fuck-up he was.
He squeezed his eyes shut hard, willing her away, willing himself to go back a few days and redo this entire thing differently.
"Aren't you...gonna say anything?" came the soft, timid voice once more, this time from beside him. Firmer, realer.
He narrowed his eyes in her ghostly direction, focusing as best as he could on her blurry, swimming visage.
"Huh. Didn't know that was really you."
When had she arrived, exactly? Fuck, he was dangerously gone if she'd been able to sneak up on him like that.
She frowned at that, leaning close and sizing him up with worrying eyes. Gingerly, she placed her palm on the back of his bare hand.
"Jeez, Cooper. How fucked up are you?" she asked, her tone sincere, almost apologetic.
Her glaring worry burned into him as judgment, harsh and stinging, and he struck out in response, yanking his hand away.
"Mind your fuckin' business." he slurred, forcing himself to sit up straight enough to point his full anger in her direction, growing with each passing moment. "Think you're better'n me? Hmm?"
He'd fully expected this to ignite another yelling match between the two of them, but she didn't scream back; instead, she quietly dropped her head, avoiding his eyes as she gazed around where he'd chosen to bed down. Truly, he was quite impressed she'd managed to find him at all, let alone in the dark. Turns out he was rubbing off on her even more than he'd thought. The idea left him bitter.
A big part of the anger he felt, the ugliest, most violent part, was the Jet; he knew this. The stuff had gotten him into more than his share of scuffles through the years, making him even meaner than usual, his sharp tongue exact and piercing. However, beneath the amphetamine fog, there was a nugget of true bitterness, an open wound of insecurity that pained him into lashing out when she tried to come close. He'd lashed out in such a way that night at the hotel, despite how hard he'd tried to hold back his sour words.
There was a fear there that he'd felt before, but never so strongly as when he'd watched her disappear over that hill. If she'd tried to leave over that relatively small argument, when would she try to leave again? He wasn't a pleasant man to be around, even when he actually tried to be, a lot of the time. Hell, he wasn't even pleasant to look at; if he'd been a giant prick in his old life, at the very least, he had been handsome.
Increasingly, since she'd come into his life, he tried to reach deep, deep into himself and pull out whatever remained of the old him, the one who was kind and hopeful and actually knew how to talk to women, but the process was infinitely more difficult and painful than he'd imagined.
She clearly wanted and needed intimacy from him, on more than one front, and the pressure of feeling like he couldn't give her what she needed was increasingly getting to him in a way that embarrassed him more than he could possibly say (not that he'd ever say it out loud). Centuries of time had passed, and yet, here he was, still dealing with the same anxieties and feelings of inadequacy that he had before, just dressed up in a new, uglier face.
When would he finally succeed in pushing her away, in frightening her away from him 'for her own good'? The walls around him had never failed him before, for better or worse.
Things were quiet between them as she fidgeted in her spot, the tension of an inescapable conversation in the air, but the desert's constant score, the hiss of sand across corroded asphalt, the soft rattle of the wind in the rocky hills, played on. His muddled ears played tricks on him, making him hear murmurs and distant gunshots and the crack of his rifle butt into that farmhand's face, but he tuned them out, focusing on her steadying, but increasingly heavy breathing, his eyes unable to leave her mouth..
He let himself drink in the fact that she really was there, sat on her knees in the dirt before him and already begging him for his forgiveness, for his acceptance; corporeal, flesh and blood and her sweet smell and that wet, warm place between her legs. Only in his drug-induced private fantasies had he felt it, but he knew he wanted to bury himself there, as deep as possible, and never let her pull away.
"I really am sorry, Coop." she whispered, those big, round eyes brimming with big, wet tears. It wasn't difficult to see her sincerity, even as he struggled to focus. But that hot coal of bitter anger still smoldered in his gut; not replaced by the lust he felt, but fed by it.
Slowly, his own movements labored under the weight of too many substances, he reached out and ran the thumb of his sullied glove along her smooth, smooth cheek. Smearing the trail of wetness there until he was tracing the outline of those pouty lips, he pushed it into her mouth.
"Prove it."
She let out a pitiful little retch, though whether it was from the taste of the incredibly filthy material, or because he was shoving her tongue back in her throat and gagging her with it, he didn't know. What he did know was that the sound made his cock twitch, which was already more blatant sexual desire than he'd felt in ages.
"How?" she asked, wiping at her mouth with the back of her hand as he pulled his own away. The wetness that trailed from his thumb, from her lips, made him feel feverish, and he quickly knotted his hand into the thick, soft hair at the back of her head, yanking her so close that their noses would've been touching, had he still had one. When her wide eyes met his, not so much as a sound escaping her lips at the sensation in her scalp, he finally gave in and harshly mashed his mouth to hers, swallowing the sigh that escaped her as he did.
Cooper was unsure how long they kissed, how long he plundered her swollen, eager mouth with his tongue before she stumbled onto her knees, pulling back slightly to pull air into her lungs. As she hovered there, eyes closed as she attempted to gather herself, he dug deep into the pocket of his duster and withdrew a Jet container, giving it a shake to prime it as she righted her breathing. Once she was steady once more, he cupped the back of her head again, bringing her to him and lifting it to her mouth. There was hesitation in her eyes, then disgust as the chem filled her lungs. It touched him with a twinge of amusement, knowing how badly the stuff tasted, watching her retch harder than before. He let her cough for a few seconds, allowing her a few half-cocked breaths of air before shoving the thing back between her lips and holding it down even longer.
By the time she managed to stop sputtering and drooling, he'd had a hit of his inhaler and started stroking his increasingly hard cock through his pants, watching her closely as she raised her now bleary, glassy eyes towards him. He waited for her to mouth off, to complain, to remark on anything that had happened, but instead, she sat there, unmoving, waiting for his instructions. She was the picture of obedience, but nevertheless, he could still see that glint of outrage behind her gaze, waiting to argue with him the moment she sensed an opportunity.
It pissed him off more than he thought possible, and, before he could even think to stop himself, he lashed out and slapped her across the face, the blow landing squarely in the center of her cheek and making her head turn away from him slightly. Surprising him again, she didn't make a sound, but she also didn't correct her head to look back at him.
Pulling a long drag off of the Jet inhaler himself, he held it deep in his lungs as he grabbed her by her long hair to kiss her again, exhaling the stuff right down into her lungs. She kissed him back until she choked on the sensation, leaning away to spew and cough more.
"Wanna prove you're sorry?" he hissed, his brain buzzing with the fresh hit as she leaned against his knee. "Clean my boots, vaultie. Show a little humility for once in your life."
His words were mean, meaner than he should be right now, but she didn't seem to register their full weight as she struggled to focus her eyes on the boots in question. When she lifted those dark, glassy pools back to his, he could see she knew what he meant, a heavy blush staining her cheeks and neck. Of course she knew what he meant; she was a smart girl, and her brain worked so much like his, even if she wouldn't freely admit it.
She looked up at him so dreamily through those thick lashes, though whether it was real affection in her eyes or simply the haze from all the Jet he'd forced down into her lungs, he couldn't tell.
In truth, his boots weren't as filthy as they could've been, as he'd cleaned the farmhand's blood off of them the night she'd taken off to get rid of the smell. But it wasn't about cleanliness; no, she'd humiliated him, her and her spoiled, entitled vault-dweller attitude, when she ran off, and he wanted to see her humiliate herself a little in kind.
The woman kneeling before him didn't hesitate as much as he'd thought she would, the red outline of his palm and fingers seeming to glow on her cheek in the dying firelight as she cast a vaguely-seeing glance around her, measuring her space before pulling herself into a sort of downward dog position, her round ass in the air as her marred cheek rested softly on the sandy ground. There was a moment of quiet tension as she seemed to study it, planning her approach before rather timidly leaning forward and running her tongue along the side, swiping a clean stripe across the tarnished black material from ball to toe. She gagged at first, likely from the dryness of the dust, but, again, she didn't complain.
He didn't have to tell her to clean the other boot; she did it with no prompting as soon as the first was finished, gagging less as she ran her pretty pink tongue all along the sullied, scuffed leather, and he couldn't believe how much it turned him on while equally failing to quell his indignation, his disappointment. Before she'd really finished her work, he yanked her up by her hair again; this time, she let out a slight yelp of surprise as he dropped her onto her ass, gesturing to her shabby, scavenged armor with one hand as the other began to wrestle his ammo belt, then his actual belt, open.
"Take that shit off."
Again, she did as he asked with only a moment's pause, placing all the little pieces of boiled leather and metal off to the side, her eyes flitting to him for a heartbeat before she proceeded with the rest of her clothes, quickly exposing herself completely. He could see her well in the moonlight, but not as well as he'd have liked, leaving her standing there, vulnerable and shivering ever-so-slightly as he took a good, long look at her. He was painfully hard at this point, desperate to have at least some minor relief from the confines of his trousers, but he was also uncharacteristically nervous at the idea of exposing himself to her this way. Beckoning her forward, he used her distraction as she kneeled once more to pull his cock free, grateful for the darkness and her weaker eyes.
"Suck me." he growled.
While he wasn't exactly pleased at how entirely fucked up he'd been going into this, he was sort of grateful that he couldn't feel almost anything with any vivid detail across the expanse of his body; the visual of her wrapping her dainty little fingers around him and obediently leaning down to take him into her mouth alone would have been enough to finish him if he'd have been able to feel her properly.
The way she went about it also seemed to indicate she wasn't entirely experienced, simply sliding her mouth down over his cock and setting to finding a pace that she could handle, as everything was surely spinning for her. For a while, he let her do so, fingers knotting into her hair again, before his patience wore thin and he began to push her head downwards, the sound of her gagging once more sending a thrill up his spine. Even with the numbness from the most recent hit seeping through him, he wasn't able to keep it up long before he yanked her back, taking in the drool hanging down from her swollen lips.
Cooper gave his spit-slicked cock a few firm tugs, hissing from between his worn teeth at her as he sat back, making room for her on his lap.
"Now get up here and show me you know who you belong to."
She didn't even look towards her bag, towards the condoms he knew she kept tucked deep inside her little toiletry pocket, as she quickly and sloppily pulled herself up into his lap. A part of him knew that he'd have stopped her if she did try to put one on him.
He tried so hard to not think of Barb as the pretty young thing on top of him began to sink down and envelop his cock in her heat, tried so hard to not feel guilty for giving himself to another, and he failed miserably. She felt heavenly, tighter and warmer and sweeter than he could've ever imagined, and he hated himself for how much he loved it, for how alive it made him feel when for so long he'd simply been existing. The choked noise that left his dry throat as the aching head of him fully breached her wasn't a sob, but he wouldn't have known what to call it.
It must've seemed to her, he thought, that he was forcing her to do all the work out of anger, wanting her to fully prove that she wanted him, that she was his; this was true, but he was also terrified, deep down, of how he would react if he allowed himself to freely touch her the way he wanted. He feared he would literally rip her limb from limb in his intoxicated state, sink his teeth into her pillowy flesh until it bled, tear a chunk off of her and swallow it so that she could be part of him forever.
He couldn't tell if the way she huffed and whimpered her way down his length was because she was high and hypersensitive or because she'd never been with a man this way before. That thought was quickly and harshly banished from his brain, however, his hands finding the plush fat of her hips, fingertips digging hard into the soft, supple flesh.
"Good pup." he breathed out when he eventually felt her ass rest on his thighs, fully sheathing him inside her.
The whimper she let out in response, her tight little clasp quivering around him as she clumsily reached out and braced her hands on his shoulders, made him throb hard, leaving him at least slightly grateful for his intoxication once again. If his numbed brain and body had been able to feel her fully, he knew he would've absolutely shot his load already.
Cooper struggled to stay still as she moved experimentally on top of him, lifting and lowering and grinding herself a few different ways before she found a rhythm that made him let out a throaty moan, the ghost of a smile flashing across her sleepy face as she rode away at him for a while.
What he really wanted, deep beneath all the unwanted feelings and unanswered questions about things he didn't want to think about right now, was to knock her up. For so long now he'd thought of her as his, and now that he'd claimed her, he wanted nothing more than to see her round and full to the brim of him. He wanted her to need him, to be completely dependent on him to provide for her and keep her safe.
He wanted her too vulnerable to get away from him.
On top of him, her movements were rapidly losing all coordination as her glossy, heavy eyelids drifted shut, her head nodding violently as she struggled to maintain her pace. He'd given her too much for someone who didn't use regularly, someone her size, and she was crashing out, falling asleep against her will right there. Poor thing.
He slapped her again, the sound ringing out across the vast, empty desert, watching closely as she startled back into a fully upright posture, her hips stilling for a moment before slowly beginning to churn again, her gaze unfocused.
"Mmm." she murmured groggily, leaning forward and placing her forehead against his shoulder, her arms winding around his neck as she tried her best to keep in some sort of motion.
This gesture, the way she cuddled up to him and sought comfort, support from him, even after the way he'd treated her, the fact that he'd literally just slapped her awake, was the only thing she'd done thus far that truly quelled the ugly, raging anger inside him.
"Thought this stuff was s'posed to wake you up." she sighed into the crook of his neck. She was entering the peak of her high, her body pitifully liquid against his chest as she clearly struggled to stay upright.
Personally, Cooper was reaching the un-fun part of his comedown, where everything started to feel grating and the mind began to uncloud, providing an increasingly painful level of clarity, but the senses remained muddled in a way that provided more discomfort than relief.
"Usually does. You had too much, baby." he responded, the mild chastisement in his tone doing a poor job of hiding the guilt behind it. His naked hands stroked reverently at her back, at the long, wind-swept hair that flowed down it, mindful to hold her so that she wouldn't lilt too far to one side as he attempted to soothe her.
Familiar with the unpleasant swimming sensation too much Jet could give you, he let her relax fully against him, the small sigh she let out one of gratitude as her whole body sagged even further. But she didn't stop grinding against him, probably out of some sort of pleasure for herself, he figured as he could feel her greedy insides tugging around him. He hid his grin again, this time in the crook of her neck as his hands found her hips once more, easily lifting her a few inches before dropping her down again, bouncing her on his cock as she rested.
Things went on like that for a spell, him bobbing and rocking her naked, lax body on top of his as she curled up on his shoulder, cooing and nodding off from time to time. As his high wore off, the sensitivity in his body was returning, and it made her feel more and more overwhelming as he continued to fuck her, her hot, wet little cunt leaking all over him as he continued to use her body to get himself off.
She seemed to be more conscious now than before, though barely, jostled awake by the increasing force of his thrusts up into her, bare breasts heaving with the movement. For a brief moment, he allowed himself to trace his lips down her chest, sealing them around her puffy, erect nipple and swiping his tongue along her slightly salty flesh. In response, her arms tightened around his neck, holding him on her breast as she clenched around him hard.
"Cooper." she whimpered, and that single little sound pushed him right into what felt like the most powerful orgasm he'd ever had, his fingers digging into her hips far too hard as he dropped her full weight onto him, grinding her down onto his cock and yanking her against him. His head dropped back, dead weight as he let out a feral snarl, tapering off into a throaty moan.
As he throbbed his gift up inside her, she squirmed at the feeling, tucking her bright red face into the side of his neck in what read as slight embarrassment, giving little huffs and whimpers as he continued to fill her. Another, smaller wave of guilt nagged at him as she clung to him, as he held her as close as he possibly could, struggling to regain control of his breathing; even if she'd had sex before, she'd never done this.
He held her as long as she could tolerate, her grip around him loosening slowly as she moved closer to real sleep. His girl was exhausted through and through, lightly snoozing against his chest.
For a few minutes, he let her rest uninterrupted, scanning her over to assess how badly he'd fucked up. She seemed fairly intact, though certainly more bruised than before. Eventually, he went digging into her bag, knowing (hoping) that she would have Radaway somewhere, and letting out a small sigh of relief when he found some jammed into the bottom.
Only one dose; he would have to find her more, and soon. This would be enough to see her through the next day, though, and he was pleasantly surprised to note that she wasn't showing even minor signs of radiation sickness as he found a vein in her arm, starting up the intravenous line to administer the thick, yellowed solution. Surprisingly, she didn't rouse fully when he slid the included needle into place, but she did begin to stir and groan mildly as the stuff began to effuse. Dimly, he remembered being given it when he'd been in the service, and how shitty it could make you feel.
Softly, he stroked her cheek with the backs of his bare knuckles before setting to jabbing her with a Stimpak from his bag around where she'd stuck some staples in her belly, making a note to ask her what had given her the several inches-long laceration he saw there.
He hesitated, though, when he moved to give her a dose of Med-X he'd dug out from the depths of his saddlebag. Most of the Wasteland's mind-rotting and pain-soothing substances were on the table for him, and in great amounts, but he hated the way the opiate made him sluggish and sleepy, reducing his accuracy in a fight significantly. The pain relief it provided wasn't worth it if he ended up dead anyway.
Smoothskins loved it, though, so he usually kept a few syringes on him for bartering purposes. Never did he think he'd be happy to give so much of his stash away for free.
He knew she must be hurting, or, she would be when she woke up, whenever that was. But he was hesitant to give her anything else, both for fear of how she would react, and, somewhat selfishly, because he knew a proper dose would make her sleep even longer, and he was desperate to actually get to speak with her again.
If she asked for the stuff, he'd give it to her. But...tomorrow. After they'd gotten a chance to discuss everything that had happened with cooler, more sober heads. After he was sure she wouldn't wake up in the morning and hate him for what he'd done to her.
His fingers played softly in her mussed hair as the indigo cover of night faded into the periwinkle of twilight, washing her nearly grey in his arms. She slept hard awhile, undisturbed until the awkward angle of her neck made him gently resettle her into a more comfortable-seeming position, letting her slip down until she was curled up in a ball on her side in his lap, her head supported in the crook of his elbow. Lying this way, he'd have to hold her up while she slept, but he found himself strangely excited at the prospect.
"M'sorry I ran away." she murmured suddenly after a long period of silence, readjusting herself in his lap to curl closer.
"I know, kid. I forgive you." he replied after a moment of hesitation, the words soft and strange as they formed on his lips. He petted her hair as gently as he could manage. "Did a good job findin' your way back to me, pup. Proud of you."
"Mmm. Please don't be mad at me." she echoed his own thoughts softly, so slurred as she finally began into unconsciousness that it was barely intelligible, her face buried in his side.
"I'm not." he said, fully, completely honest for once in his long life. He let his eyelids rest, his hand on his gun, ready to stop anyone who would try to ruin this quiet moment under the fading stars. "I promise. Now, get some sleep, pup. I know you came a long way today."
She sighed at that, as if to say "You have no idea." before flopping loosely into his arms, and was snoring lightly within a minute. He allowed himself a small smile at this, at how earnest and adorable she was.
"Good girl." he murmured.
#cooper howard#the ghoul#cooper howard smut#cooper howard x reader#cooper howard x you#fallout tv show#fallout prime#ghoulcy#vaultghoul#submission
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Missed me?
part 1 | part 2
Pairing: Stepmommy Wanda x f!reader
Tags: Stepmom x stepdaughter, fluff, daddy issues, kissing, drinking, mentions of upcoming smut
Summary: Y/N's back from college and finds out her stepmother may have missed her just as much as she did
Dinner ended after a painfully long 2 hours and you helped Wanda finish up the dishes while you two caught up. "So, did you meet anyone special over there?" The words tasted bitter in her mouth. "No, not really. Just a bunch of people who wasted my time." Wanda paused briefly after putting a plate in this sink, "Who wasted your time?" The question felt more than casual, like she demanded an answer. "Just people I thought respected me, turns out they all thought I was a joke." She frowned at you, "I don't think you're a joke, my Y/N." That nickname always left your face burning. "Thank you Wanda, I missed you." She pulled you in for an unexpected hug, one that was so rudely interrupted by your father coming to grab his 9th glass of wine.
After the dishes were done your father left upstairs to do who-knows what, and you went to your room to watch a movie with Wanda. The two of you had established a tradition of late-night movie watching about a year ago. Every Thursday Wanda comes to lay with you on your bed and you watch some cheesy laughable movie while you try to hide your giggles from your father. It was always completely innocent, until today that is.
The movie started and you both had already started your fits of laughter before you even grabbed the popcorn. Wanda was always very hospitable, so she loved setting up a series of snacks for the two of you. The movies you always watched were full of cheesy jokes and dumb humor, but this time Wanda wanted to watch something a little but more serious, a romance.
The main characters had already kissed 9 different people only 10 minutes into the movie. "I don't understand how people do it." You commented, upset by the actions of the character. "Do what?" Wanda replied. "Make-out with a bunch of random people all the time just for fun. I don't understand it. Why can't people just love one person forever? And only that person?" She began rubbing your arm softly at that last part. Your breath got caught in your throat at the sudden action. "Mhm" She agreed quietly. "M-maybe they're just lonely." You said trying to regain your thoughts. She stopped at your words, "Do you kiss a lot of people when you're lonely?" Her voice sounded softer, sadder, something you almost never hear from her. "No, but I might try it." You joked with a sad laugh, "I felt so lonely at school, for so long, I don't want to feel lonely anymore." She got quiet, when you looked up at her she was looking at you, focused. Her left hand gently caressed your head, while her right rubbed circles on your stomach. She opened her mouth, and then closed it. She did it again, and again, you anxiously waited for what she was trying to say. What could she have to say that would take this much effort? "Let me be the one you love forever, my Y/N," She whispered so boldly. "the one you always kiss, the one who kills your lonely, the one who makes you feel special every time you think you aren't." She paused, "I love you."
Your eyes filled with tears, and she pulled you into her to steal them with her lips. She softly kissed every tear that fell while she silently hoped you felt comforted by it. When they stopped falling she pulled away. "Wanda, I-" Her expression grew disappointed and saddened. "It's okay Y/N, I understand this is an interesting situation, you don't have to-" You practically threw yourself onto her smashing your lips together again. You heard her sniffle and you quickly pulled away. "Wanda?" She smiled and sniffled back more cries, "You're everything to me Y/N, I've loved you for so long and now you're finally mine." You smiled smugly back at her, "Well, there's still one thing you haven't claimed yet." She looked at you confused, "What?" You signaled for her to get closer, "my virginity."
#stepmom wanda#wanda maximoff#elizabeth olsen#wanda x you#wanda x reader#mommy wanda#wanda maximoff x reader#wanda#wanda maximoff imagine#wanda maximoff fanfiction
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O o o f should not have showed the folks everything everywhere all at once
#One of those classic 'puts piece of media that basically represents my heart and soul and innermost feelings in someone's hands' things#I did think that they wouldn't be a fan of how Much it is but they loved swiss army man and I thought they'd appreciate the sentiment#But mum stopped paying attention immediately bc I'm pretty sure she's got sight issues she won't address and her eyes glanced off the subs#And dad enjoyed it a bit more but still had sort of a mildly disapproving face on for a lot of it#And idk ten years ago mum and I would've discussed a movie like that all night#Even if she didn't care for how it was done we would've chatted about the themes for hours#But she just.... Didn't really care#Or get it#Bc she doesn't have the memory/attention to absorb something with so much going on anymore#And always misinterprets if you try and bring up something that's on your mind#And just hums whatever music's in her head no matter what else is going on#And I'm fucking sad and angry that this fucking movie came out too late for the phase in my life when anyone might've given a shit#And at some point my bro is gonna watch it and I hope he'll find it comforting but lbr he's gonna be on the joy Wang nihilism train#And idk I feel a bit like lil waymond getting perpetually divorced and yelled at here bc I'm trying to connect and just not connecting#Looking on the brightside and finding moments of joy and connection is basically my only weapon too and it just#Feels like the people in my family are resisting at every turn#And it's not always their fault!!! Mental health and shit isn't anyone's fault#But even the most neurotyoical of us just isn't interested really in any attempt I make at reaching out#Guys I'm fucking here I'm here for the long haul bc I feel like if I turn my back you're gonna lose the rest of your marbles and disappear#Can we stop!!! Acting!!! Like strangers!!! Sharing a house!!!!!#*screams into pillow*#OK tag over share over#Delete later maybe idk#mr. bees speaks
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I wanted to use some fun colors
#i don’t like how her face came out bc I still do not know how to use prismacolors but I kinda like how her arms turned out#it’s probably not super cohesive. whatever.#referenced from a pic of jeeja yanin who I used to reference a lot when first drawing her. mostly bc I like her nose#i have a LOT of issues with how her eyes turned out I did not realize the pen I used to like would bleed#*line#so when I used some marker on them they got kinda fucked up#oh well#anyways!!! saengdao my beloved. i miss you so much it’s unreal#dnd#myart
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HANAMUSA (JESSIExDELIA) MASTER POST
I probably should have started doing this forever ago but I wasn’t sure how long I was gonna stick with drawing these comics. But I guess we’re in it now! This will be continually updated~ EVERYTHING UNDER THE CUT
BEFORE YOU START:
This post is required reading about Team Rocket’s ages since that’s usually a question that comes up a lot LOL. As for Delia’s age, she is said to be 29 in Takeshi Shudo’s (original writer on Pokémon) novel that built out the world and characters of the anime.
Next, I feel like this chart helps give the vibe of what these characters relationship is (all just headcanons except for their names and ages)!
WHERE TO START:
Here’s a post I made detailing how Jessie, James and Meowth initially start living with Delia. It also goes into what each character does in this AU. Before going into the post, you might enjoy this fanfic my girlfriend commissioned! It’s based off of said post and is a more enjoyable read.
Here’s also a list of headcanons!
COMICS:
Here’s all the comics I’ve done! The order of most of them are pretty ambiguous and up in the air but I put them in the order I kinda see in my head! There are some that do take place before Jessie and Delia start dating though! Also a few comics that have several parts but the “next” and “prev” links will be in each comic. So I’ll only link the first part of those ones in this masterpost.
Pre-Relationship
Fast Food
Ophidiophobia
Whipped
Making Eyes
Hairbrush
Inquiries
Separated
First Kiss
During Relationship
Big Bed
Tattoo
Crumbs
Pet Clown
I’d Like To
Jessica
Lipstick (not a comic but some fun extra dialogue for this)
Glow
Official
Stare Down
Shovel Talk
Invisible Walls
Date Night
Face Blind
One Motto Away
Babygirl
Snowgasboard
Delia’s Got a Cold
Mr. Jessie Ketchum
Peek-At-Chu
Hands Off Pikachu!
Wine Nights with James
Beauty and the Beach
Turning Point Arc
Sunscreen
Where Do Babies Come From
Head Scritches
Love Life
Ugly
Ace Trainers
Pikasitting
Mother’s Day
Father’s Day
Gift for Delia
Gift for Jessie
Jessilina Fan
Crossdressing
Type
Hickeys
Journey Arc
Tone
Cooking Twerp
Son
Cooking Advice
Serperior Facts
Cassidy’s Cabin Arc
Father/Son Bonding
Uniform
Hand-Me-Downs
Glasses
Study Help
Happy Valentine’s Day
Wrapped
Daddy Daughter Double Battle
Splinter
Married Life
Wedding
Arbok/Weezing Reunion
Snake Eyes
MISC DRAWINGS:
I’ll update this with links to my other miscellaneous drawings later!
FAQ:
What does "Hanamusa" mean?
Hanamusa is a combination of Delia and Jessie's Japanese names, Hanako and Musashi respectively.
When does this AU take place?
It takes place sometime after the Mezase Pokémon Master/To Be a Pokémon Master series. So all the events that happened in the series, unless retconned within the series, happened. Ash is 10 at the start of the comics.
What's the status between Jessie, James, Meowth and Giovanni/Team Rocket?
Not great terms since they were fired, but also not the worst terms. Giovanni just let the three of them go without any further issues.
I will say that I've always loved the theory that Giovanni keeps Jessie specifically around because of her parentage and he as a soft spot for her that he keeps a secret. I feel like Matori was the one that got the three of them fired and Giovanni wasn't able to make an excuse for them this time (without showing nepotism/special treatment) so he was forced to let them go.
If you headcanon Delia as a lesbian, how did Ash come to be?
Delia was young when she had Ash and I hc that she just didn’t really explore her sexuality much! I myself didn’t realized I liked women until I was 18 and didn’t know I liked ONLY women until like 2 years ago. She got married, had a baby and realized after her husband left that she liked women (trans people exist obviously but I’m also interpreting Ash’s father as a cis man).
Who do you think Ash’s dad is?
I don’t know and I don’t really care to explore it. I’m going off of the novel interpretation that he’s just a deadbeat that left to be a trainer, failed and never came back because of the shame. He’s not important.
Isn’t Giovanni Ash’s dad?
That’s a common misconception that people remember wrong from the Pokémon Live show. Delia mentions she dated Giovanni but then left him and his gang after meeting Ash’s father. I also don’t consider the live show canon personally! I follow The Birth of Mewtwo timeline where Madame Boss founded Team Rocket.
Do you think Delia and Giovanni dated at least?
Nah, I think he’s too old for her? I always got the vibe from The Birth of Mewtwo that he was quite a bit older than Jessie and it’d be sus if he was dating Delia when she was married to, and had a child with her husband at 18/19. He’s a bad guy but not a BAD guy.
You mentioned you still ship Jessie and James. Why not make a Jessie, James, Delia polycule?
I have a few reasons I’ve mentioned before! 1. I’m in super deep with this AU already and I feel it’d be very confusing for casual viewers of my stuff if James was added into the relationship haha. 2. I’ve drawn Jessie and James together since 2011 and took this AU as an opportunity to try my hand at writing them as queer, platonic besties bc I love that interpretation of them a lot as well. 3. I’m not poly myself and the way I write this ship is largely based off of my experiences with my girlfriend. I just know I’d favor the Jessie/Delia of it all which isn’t fair and not a good interpretation of a poly relationship. All that said, I DO super enjoy seeing peoples’ poly headcanons and art!
Who does James end up with in this AU?
No one. He's aroace and is happy to be single
Do Jessie and James have all their Pokémon in this AU
I think they have all the Pokémon that they did by the end of Mezase Pokémon Master (all their Pokémon that were left at HQ). Most of their released Pokémon have stayed released and the Alola Pokémon are still in Alola. I bring back Arbok and Weezing post-Jessie and Delia getting married. I may bring back Chimecho, Growlie and Cacnea if I think of an idea I like!
What are Meowth and James up to in this AU?
Hop back to the top of this post under the "Where to Start" section. All your questions will be answered.
Does Ash travel with anyone at this point of his life?
I don't have anyone in particular in mind! I could see him making new friends (Nemona???) or traveling with different combinations of old friends. Like him, Misty and Goh, him, Dawn and Cilan, him, Serena and Lillie etc.
Will Delia ever get over her phobia of snake Pokémon
Not fully! I think overcoming fears is fine and good but I think real PHOBIAS are much harder to get past and I don't want to cheapen it. She slowly gets used to Jessie's Seviper specifically and gets to the point where she can pet it comfortably with Jessie in the room. But otherwise, still scared and would need that same amount of time per Pokémon
Is Jessie gaining weight or is it just me?
Not just you! Jessie puts on a bit of relationship weight overtime as you'll see in the later comics in the timeline. Jessie grew in poverty, never knowing when her next meal would be and that continued into her life as a Team Rocket member. Once she was able to settle down (with a woman who runs her own restaurant no less) she's able to live a healthier lifestyle with regular meals and puts on some weight because of that.
Does Jessie ever feel self conscious about gaining weight?
Nope! She feels happier and healthier and hotter. She's also unreasonably excited to clear out her old clothes and get a new wardrobe.
Would Jessie and Delia ever have kids together or adopt?
Nah, Ash is enough for them! I have come up with hypothetical kids for them but they're not canon to this AU. Just a fun little thing for me.
Will you ever put this on webtoon?
Nah. People mostly ask me this because they want to read everything in the order of the timeline but to my knowledge, you can’t reorder chapters or installments which would defeat the purpose. I also don’t think nintendo fan stuff would fly there. Also, also it’s just extra work and another place to upload and I want to keep this all fun for myself~
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I'm Here on Business
Wayne is a regular at the bookstore Steve works at and badgers Steve into going on a blind date with his kid.
For @extocancer Happy New Years!!! I hope you enjoy your presents ◡̈
***
It's a quiet night in the little bookstore on the corner of Brinks and Williams. Steve is sitting behind the check-out counter flicking the leaf of a potted pothos placed next to the register. Soft music plays from the radio behind him.
Steve likes taking the evening shifts at the shop just to see the place warmly lit up by all of the eclectic and ornate lamps that Amber, the owner, has collected. The store doesn't give him migraines from obnoxious fluorescent light, which has been an issue at previous jobs.
Ever since Robin moved out of their apartment for Grad school, it's been upsetting to be at home alone at night. Without her company, the couch feels longer. And without her unhinged apartment decor, the walls feel taller and colder. Consequently, Steve has taken on more work hours instead of being home.
Plus, he has kind of fallen in love with reading. It came as a shock to him that he could enjoy it as much as he does. It started when his all-female team of coworkers began ranting to each other about these romance novels they were all into. He felt a little left out and decided to give one of them a try. It turns out that reading was actually a really great coping mechanism for dealing with his temporary loss of Robin.
The nicest, and most surprising thing to come out of this job though, is probably Wayne. A one-time customer turned regular, turned tentative friend for Steve. He's got a caring, parental energy that Steve's own parents never had.
The guy looks like he'd have a gruff or standoffish personality. His face naturally rests in a frown and he's got receding grey hair. He wears a flannel every day without fail; he's got a million different colors of them and Steve has even made a game of predicting which one he'll be wearing when he comes in.
"Did ya guess right today, boy?" Wayne will ask.
"No," Steve often admits glumly. "The universe told me you'd be wearing your green and blue one."
So anyway, Wayne comes around a lot to make small talk. He often mentions how he misses his son, Eddie. He's so stiff with personal information about his kid, but one time he let it slip that Eddie was on tour with his band. Steve had a field day afterward colluding with Google to find out exactly who Wayne's son was.
Eddie Munson, lead singer and guitarist of rock group Corroded Coffin.
Steve hadn't heard of ‘em but they certainly have a following. He listened to some of their stuff, to give himself some context for the next time Wayne brought up Eddie's music. It was nice enough, the guy has a good voice.
Steve's been waiting for Wayne to come in tonight. He's later than usual and it would be ridiculous for Steve to worry about a man who probably just thinks of Steve as that one kid who works at the bookstore. He may not come in at all tonight, and that would be fine too. Steve's still holding out on him pulling up in his... yellow flannel.
Steve's about to cave and start the next book in the current series he's reading when the door jingles. Wayne pushes inside in his mother fucking yellow flannel.
"Yellow Flannel!" Steve exclaims. Wayne chuckles and drops a book on the counter followed by a receipt.
"You got me right today?" Wayne asks fondly.
"Yup. It's been a while. I was aching for a win." Steve starts returning Wayne's book for him without giving him slack this time. Wayne treats the store like a library and Steve doesn't have the heart to tell him it's not allowed.
"Was this book any good?" Steve throws Wayne's receipt back at him and starts moving around the counter to put it back on the shelf for some other historical fiction lover to purchase.
"It was just alright." Wayne follows behind him languidly, eyeing the rows of colorful book spines for something that catches his eye. "But actually I'm here on business tonight."
Steve leans on the shelf and waits impatiently for Wayne to tell him what sort of business he's on.
"I think you ought to go on a date with Eddie. I think you two'd compliment each other."
Well, that's... not what Steve was expecting to hear.
"That's business to you? You came here to set me up on a blind date with your famous kid? I think he's gonna be a tad underwhelmed by a bookstore employee, Wayne." Steve's not gonna lie, he's a little intrigued by the prospect of dating a musician. He read a romance novel about one, not that long ago. Concerts, greenroom intimacy, targeted lyrics: Steve could be into it, in theory.
And ultimately, Steve did see photos of Eddie on Google and he's attractive. He looks good holding a guitar.
"He's gonna be home for a while so I figured now's a good time. Just go on one date. He's a big softie, you'll like him." Wayne pulls a book off the shelf and squints to try and read the title. He holds it further from his eyes before giving up and pushing it back into its slot.
"What happens if he doesn't like me? Will you still come around?" Steve runs a nervous hand through his hair. It wouldn't be the end of the world if Wayne stopped showing up, but it would probably hurt a little. It might fan the flame of his fear of abandonment.
"Of course, unless you break his heart. I know where you work, young man." Wayne pats his shoulder good-naturedly.
"Okay old man, you need my number to hand off?"
***
A day later, when Steve feels his phone buzz against his thigh, his instincts already know who it is. His heart gives that anticipatory squeeze he often gets before a first date with someone he finds attractive.
The text reads:
Hi Steve, this is eddie. Wayne swears we're soulmates. Wanna get dinner on friday?
It's a funny text to receive out of nowhere. Steve doubts Wayne actually used that word, but he imagines that Eddie is probably getting more of an earful than Steve got about this whole blind date. He also wonders what kind of person calls their dad by their first name.
Hi Eddie. I'd love to get dinner on Fri and discuss our soulmate status. I'm pretty sure he expects us to be married by the end of the night. Should I bring my tux? Also do you have a time and place in mind?
The master of puppets (Wayne) suggested we go to Maggiano's, are you okay with Italian? 8 maybe??? Tux optional but I think I will not be wearing one.
Haha. That sounds good Eddie, it's nice to hear from you. I'll see you soon.
***
Steve has to ask Amber to change his shift for Friday to work in the morning instead of the evening.
"Steve has somewhere other than work to be on a Friday night? Unheard of!" She slaps her palms down on the book display she was laying out.
"I know. I'm surprised too." Steve fiddles with his lanyard and gives her a 'please say yes' smile. She sighs.
"Yeah, I'll cover you. You can take my morning slot."
"Thank you! I owe you, boss."
***
When Friday arrives, Steve has the nervous jitters. It's been about a year since his last date, it didn't go very well. He's flattered that Wayne thinks highly enough of him to set him up with his kid.
Steve picks up a few small gifts for Eddie on his way home from work. He always brings his first dates a little something. He likes to see the way their faces light up. He thinks maybe he should get Eddie something music-related. So he walks into a little music store he's never been in and asks for small gift ideas for guitarists. He walks out wearing a smile, and hoping Eddie digs what he bought him.
And he's all smiles and confidence until he pulls up to the restaurant at eight and realizes he didn't send a confirmation text this morning. That's like, a rule, right? What if Eddie doesn't show up?
Steve steps out of the car and is equally anxious and relieved to find him leaning artfully against the restaurant near the front door with his hands in his pockets.
His curls are haloed by the warm light spilling out of the restaurant window. He's wearing a dark button-down with the sleeves rolled up to reveal tattoos on his forearms. And yeah, okay, he's hot.
The fact that Steve's going on a date with someone sort of famous hasn't fully sunk in. He's not sure he needs the added nerves though. He approaches as casually as possible and smiles when Eddie looks over.
The man does a double-take when he sees Steve. His eyebrows shoot up and he pushes off against the wall to stand straighter.
"Hi, Eddie?" Steve steps up onto the curb with a little wave. Eddie gives him a thorough once over.
"Oh, damn. Hi." He pulls a hand out of his pocket to shake Steve's.
Eddie is pretty up close. He's got long eyelashes and a bridge of little freckles across his nose. Steve notices all the little details that the on-stage photos didn't capture. He wonders if Wayne described what he looked like to Eddie who was at an informational disadvantage.
"I don't know what I was expecting you to look like, but my uncle didn't mention you were model pretty." Eddie tucks one of his big curls behind his ear and then steps forward to open the door. Steve's face gets warm at being called "model pretty", but he's terrible at taking compliments. He tries to redirect the conversation.
"Your uncle?" Steve asks.
"Wayne? My uncle?" Eddie motions towards the open door and follows after Steve once he's inside.
"Oh. You know he tells people that you're his son?"
Eddie's face softens and he scratches at his cheek. "Oh. Yeah well, I basically am. Maybe I should start calling him dad, I don't know."
"We don't take walk-ins." The hostess of the restaurant announces, breaking up their small talk. Steve looks over to see a tall woman with a slicked-back ponytail mad-dogging them. She has a cold demeanor, she kills the mood with one look between them. Steve knows the look, he's sure Eddie does too.
"Good to know! I have a reservation, though." Eddie responds.
"What's the name?" The woman pulls her iPad closer to herself like a shield.
"Munson." Eddie glances at Steve nervously.
"Hm. I don't see it." She pretends, tapping around meaninglessly. Eddie is getting agitated and maybe embarrassed too. He's scratching at his arm, unsure of how to proceed. First dates are already so awkward, especially blind ones. And if there's one thing about Steve, it's that he's gonna try to lighten the mood.
"Don't you know who he is?" Steve asks offendedly. Eddie whips around to look at Steve with wide, panic-filled eyes. The hostess raises an eyebrow and looks more closely at Eddie. It makes Steve chuckle. "I'm just kidding, let's go get burgers or something." He grabs Eddie's hand and pulls him back out the door.
"Holy shit, you scared me. I didn't know you knew who I was." Eddie has a hand on his chest and a wild grin. "She definitely didn't."
"I was just messing around. She did not want to seat our gay date." Steve sticks his hands in his pockets and then remembers Eddie's gift. "Oh but hey! I got you something."
Steve pulls out a nice bar of chocolate and a little tin of black pearly guitar picks. He offers them to Eddie with an open palm.
"Oh, what? You didn't have to do that." Eddie grabs them eagerly and slides open the tin. "This is so nice! How'd you know I've been needing picks? Now I feel doubly bad about dinner falling through."
"Hey, if I'm honest, sit-down dinner dates kind of give me anxiety. Too much pressure to keep the conversation going." Steve pulls out his keys, "You like burgers?"
Eddie huffs dramatically. "My palette is far too sophisticated for greasy burgers, Steve. I'm a chicken nugget man, obviously."
"That makes sense. You look like one." Steve teases. Eddie pouts.
"I'm taking that as a compliment."
"If you want nuggets we can just walk down the street. Unless you want me to drive?" Steve points in the direction of the row of fast-food restaurants.
"Yeah, let's walk."
Steve slowly turns and starts walking, glancing invitingly over his shoulder.
"So you know me." Eddie rattles the tin of guitar picks and looks a little worried by the prospect that Steve is some sort of fan.
"Only through your uncle, really. And maybe a short Google search. Sue me." Steve holds up his hands guiltily.
"Oh yeah, Wayne's my marketing manager. I send him out to spread the good word."
"Well I don't know who you've been instructing him to market to, but he's spending all his time in my store making me read book summaries to him because he conveniently forgets his glasses every time he comes in." Steve deadpans. Eddie chuckles and shakes his head knowingly.
"Yeah, It's this new long-con form of marketing. We decided to go all in for just one new fan." Eddie's got these sweet little dimples on either cheek when he smiles.
"Kinda worked, I dunno. I'm charmed by the Munsons." Steve and Eddie are veering towards each other as they walk. They're set to collide like two little asteroids. When they do end up bumping shoulders, it's soft. They stay close after that.
Steve hears a truly horrible sound coming from a bar a few meters ahead of them.
"Oh shit! Karaoke bar!" Eddie exclaims and speeds over. Eddie stands in front of the fenced-off patio and looks in while someone butchers Guns N' Roses. He looks absolutely delighted.
"What, you want to go show off in front of these poor, tone-deaf drunkards?" Steve rests his arms on the little fence and leans forward. Eddie vehemently disagrees.
"God no, I just like hearing all the very talented Midwestern voices." Eddie wiggles his eyebrows to express his sarcasm. "In other words, I enjoy making fun of bad music. I'm only human."
They sit there and give each other pained looks at the bad voices for a few minutes until someone starts trying to drunkenly stumble over the verse to a Nicki Minaj song and then Eddie drags Steve away in anguish.
"Can't take it anymore, Steve. Spare me."
***
The two of them have a good rapport, Steve thinks as they sit on a curb and share a big box of chicken nuggets. Maybe Wayne was right. It's playful. He can see how Eddie and Wayne share a handful of mannerisms and a sense of humor.
"Let's intertwine our arms like newlyweds do when they drink champagne," Steve says with a ketchup-covered chicken nugget in his hand. He wraps an arm around Eddie's and then takes a bite. Eddie follows his lead and giggles.
"I didn't know they did that. I've never been to a wedding." Eddie swallows and reaches for his soda.
"What? Never?"
Eddie shakes his head and looks up at the night sky. It's too cloudy to see any stars, unfortunately.
"My tux is in the car, by the way, should things pan out tonight." Steve jokes.
"I think they're panning." Eddie winks and leans in slightly.
"Oh yeah? Have I lived up to Wayne's description of me?" Steve bats his eyelashes and gives Eddie a sweet little smile.
"You've exceeded it, sweetheart." Eddie picks up Steve's hand and presses a chaste kiss to the inside of his wrist. Steve's heart jumps. When Eddie pulls back, he doesn't pull back far.
"Do you ever kiss on a first date?" Eddie whispers and squeezes Steve's hand. He glances at Steve's lips.
"Mmm, I could be persuaded." Steve feels a heady rush at the fact that he has somehow won the interest of a successful musician who probably meets loads of people every day. Steve reaches forward and tugs at one of Eddie's loose curls. He twists it around his finger and looks up with big doe eyes.
The tension is cut from Eddie's body when Steve looks at him like that. The move has a pretty good success rate at this point. And it doesn't fail him tonight. Eddie rests a hand on the base of Steve's neck. He strokes his thumb back and forth against the hollow of Steve's collarbone and leans in slowly.
Eddie's warm lips press against his own gently, experimentally. Their lips make a sweet sound when the suction is broken and Eddie's immediately reseal against Steve like he's irresistible. It's been forever since Steve kissed anyone, especially anyone worth kissing. He forgot how sweet and floaty it feels.
The hand on Steve's collar slides up so it's lightly holding his neck, it feels quietly possessive. It makes Steve's face heat up. Eddie's free arm wraps around Steve's waist pulling him closer. He lets himself be pulled.
Eddie starts getting more confident and hums softly when Steve weaves a hand into his long hair.
Steve could keep this up for hours, he wants to. But as dark as it is, he doesn't love the idea of continuing this so out in the open. He pulls back with regret.
"Damn, how are you not already taken?" Eddie wipes at Steve's shiny lips with his thumb.
"How are you not already taken? You're the accomplished one." Steve counters, squeezing one of Eddie's knees.
Eddie gathers their trash around them and stuffs it into the paper bag. "Well, I'll be home for a while if you'd want to do this again sometime. I can take you to a nice restaurant next time, I promise." He stands to throw away the trash. "Damn, I don't want the night to be over..."
"It doesn't have to be, you're welcome at mine." Steve leans back on one of his hands and bats his eyelashes up at Eddie.
"My New Year's resolution was to not do first date hookups, though."
"We don't have to, just come hang out." Steve holds an arm out to be pulled up to his feet from where he’s still sitting on the curb.
"Oh, yeah okay. You want me to?" Eddie pulls him to his feet with more force than necessary. It sends them both stumbling and giggling.
"Obviously I want you to."
***
The walk back to the restaurant is much faster than it was at the start of the night. They regretfully have to split at the parking lot, each having their own ride.
"Wait, call me so we can still talk on the way there." Eddie requests before jogging off to Wayne's truck. There really isn't much need to talk on the phone since Steve lives so close, but it's kind of cute that he wants to. Steve hits the call button on Eddie's contact.
"Hello, to whom am I speaking?" Eddie asks in a formal, over-the-top voice.
"This is Steve Harrington. I'm contacting you regarding your car's extended warranty." Steve backs out of his spot and waits for Eddie to do the same before driving out of the parking lot.
"Oh wow, what a coincidence. I was just wondering if my car had an extended warranty." Eddie always plays along, he digs into all of Steve's jokes and finds his own spot to grow there.
Steve drives slower than he normally would so that he doesn't get separated from his date. Eddie doesn't appreciate the sentiment.
"You drive like a grandpa. Has anyone ever told you that?" Eddie laughs and honks his horn. Steve hears it both over the phone and from his window.
"I'm only driving slow so we don't get separated, asshole."
"There's barely anyone on the road tonight to separate us, but it's fine, Steve. I value your safety. Drive at your comfortable geriatric pace."
When they pull up to a red light, Eddie instructs Steve to roll down his window so they can stick their hands out and play Rock Paper Scissors. Steve is so distracted watching Eddie's hand through his side mirror that he misses when the light turns.
"It's green, honey," Eddie alerts him softly through the phone, and Steve apologizes.
He's smiling real big the whole way there and when Steve eventually gets out of the car, Eddie comes up and grabs him from behind.
Eddie plants a few eager kisses on the side of Steve's neck. "You're fun, Steve."
"I'll show you real fun some other time." He jokes and pulls Eddie towards his place.
As soon as Steve opens the door to his apartment, he feels self-conscious about how dull it looks inside. Eddie looks around quietly. His eye catches on a picture of Steve and Robin.
"That's my best friend, Robin." Steve clarifies, just in case Eddie reads it wrong like dates have in the past.
Eddie smiles and pulls Steve back against his chest. "She looks nice."
"Looks can be deceiving." Steve laments which has Eddie chuckling into his shoulder. Eddie rubs at Steve's tummy.
What Steve really wants, what he's been desperate for, for months and months is human touch. He just wants to cuddle so badly. And Eddie doesn't seem the type to cuddle, but looks can be deceiving, so Steve's gonna ask anyway.
"Wanna cuddle and watch trash reality TV?" Steve's shoulders rise to his ears, it's a defensive gesture and he's expecting to be rejected. Eddie looks slightly amused by his offer, but he nods.
***
"So you liked him alright?" Wayne asks smugly patting the counter. Steve nervously watches the back of the store where Amber is reorganizing. Steve shouldn't be having a conversation like this at work while she's around.
"Yes, Wayne." Steve rolls his eyes. "Your nephew is lovely."
"I told him he should come here with me next time. Maybe we'll both visit ya." Wayne looks happy. The corners of his default frown have been pulled upwards by the return of his nephew. He's a good man. Steve thinks if his kid was only home a few weeks he'd want to hoard all of his attention, surely not set him up on dates.
And that's the thing about Wayne, it seems like he puts the people he cares about first. Steve wonders if Wayne is all that lonely when Eddie's gone, or if he just comes into the store so often because he knows Steve is.
"I'd love that." Steve hopes things work out with the Munsons.
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Them watching you get ready <3
Slytherin boys x reader fluff headcanons (warning:delulu asf)
the collage isn’t the best, but at least you have all 6 faces now
It’s date-night, but you seem to be taking quite some time to get ready…
Tom Riddle:
Let’s be honest for a second and admit that if you were taking your sweet sweet time, he’d curse at you because everything has to go according to his schedule (i even doubt that he’d do the whole “date-night” thing, but that’s a separate issue)
He’d turn more impatient by the second and barge into your dorm/bathroom without knocking
Tom would rush you so badly and keep telling you to hurry up while rolling his eyes
While you’re doing your makeup he’d pick up each product with disgust and tell you that you look just fine
When you tell him that you need more time, he tells you that there wouldn’t be a date anymore if you didn’t follow him, besides he’d lecture you on your poor time management
Eventually he drags you out with him and dryly compliments you like “see, i told you you look good” (but innerly he enjoyed that you put in effort and wanted to look good for him, even if it took some time)
Mattheo Riddle:
He wouldn’t rush you when you tell him you need more time, instead he’d take advantage of watching you get ready
When you choose your clothes, he’d encourage you to do a little fashion show for him and he would tell you that you looked perfect in every single one
He would tell you to choose a short and tight dress though, we all know why ;)
During make-up he is totally one of those guys who say “it’s all the same shade”, and in reality it’s like maroon and bright red
As a joke he’d also apply some of the products, but wipe them off immediately because he feels too emasculated
When you ask him if you could do make-up on him some day he’d simply reply “sure, but then i would get to do whatever i want with you”
Draco Malfoy:
When you offer him to watch you get ready, since you still aren’t done, he immediately accepts
Draco totally loves seeing you get ready too because during your relationship he has spoiled you so much that half your closet/vanity is basically from him
Since he grew up close to his mother, he has actually spent a lot of time in his childhood going to barbers/salons/boutiques with her
So from that he has gained excellent taste, even helps you with styling your hair, and helps you pick out accessories
He knows how long this stuff can take, so he just takes the time to make you feel beautiful and confident, showering you with compliments and pecks “you look so good in the things i buy you darling”/“you are always so gorgeous and sexy”
Theodore Nott:
He wouldn’t mind that you were not on time, the date started the second he saw you, so you getting ready was just time that you could spend together too
You are afraid it takes away the surprise factor at first, but it’s not a big deal to him
When you start to change into different outfits, he’s always there to help you undress/unzip the dresses, taking the opportunity to smoothly move his hands down your body
That would just eventually turn into a makeout session though, you just couldn’t resist when he was being that touchy and ravishing too
It takes quite some time for you to actually get ready in the end because he always distracts you in the process, but in the end you would both have had a fun time
Blaise Zabini:
He’d be quite chill and sit on your bed when you tell him to wait, just watching you get ready at your vanity
He would maybe be a little bit annoying—asking you every three seconds if you were ready to go, and he would say “you literally look the same as always, what’s the point of all this”
Eventually he liked watching you more and more though, notice the difference, and carefully pay attention to everything you did
He’d learn to appreciate both your natural and “full-glam” beauty and just observe you with interest
As soon as you were done he’d immediately kiss you (ruining your lip-combo sadly) and his lips would be stained, and he’d be smiling, fascinated by your beauty
Lorenzo Berkshire:
When you tell him to wait outside, he’d respect that at first, but would grow impatient eventually
So, he goes up to you and tells you that he would like to be a part of the process
Opposite to Mattheo, he’d actually be down to you putting make-up on his face for fun (he’s fully convinced that he could pull anyone with or without makeup)
To be honest, he didn’t care much about what you put on because you looked hot in his eyes either way, but he knew the more interested he acted the more appreciative you’d be
Looking at you with puppy-eyes at all times is his specialty, and when you’re finally done he looks at you like you’re an angel fallen from heaven
#slytherin boys#slytherin boys x reader#slytherin boys x you#harry potter oneshot#slytherin boys react#slytherin boys fanfiction#tom riddle x you#tom riddle x reader#tom riddle#mattheo riddle x you#mattheo riddle x reader#mattheo riddle#theodore nott x you#theodore nott#theodore nott x reader#draco malfoy x you#draco malfoy x reader#draco malfoy#lorenzo berkshire x you#lorenzo berkshire x reader#lorenzo berkshire#blaise zabini#blaise zabini x you#blaise zabini x reader#slytherin boys headcanons
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Request for lewis. Maybe after a terrible race weekend he comes home. and his wife thinks he would be so disappointed but when he comes home he's just so...... unserious (like look how giddy he is even when the results r not that good). like maybe he comes home and just starts kissing her and their son.
until i found you
★ : feat :: lewis hamilton x wife!reader
★ : genre :: fluff; hurt/comfort
★ : word count :: 1k+
★ : a/n :: domestic lewis is food for the soul
It was so frustrating for you to sit at home alongside your son and watch Lewis have another horrible weekend that you decided to just skip watching the race altogether. Given that last time, your son cried so much that he threw up.
It was a mutual decision yet you were shocked to see that you were feeling worse than Lewis did when you guys talked about it. His only reply was,”You know I can’t even drive knowing he’s crying at home because of me, right?”
As you watched Lewis trudge through the front door, a heavy weight seemed to hang on his shoulders. His steps lacked their usual bounce, and his usually bright eyes were dull with disappointment. You could practically feel the tension radiating off him as he entered the room.
”Hey, Lewis,” you greeted him softly, trying to gauge his mood.
He offered you a weak smile, but it didn't quite reach his eyes. ”Hey, baby” he replied, leaning forward to kiss you as his hands sneaked around your shoulder.
You moved closer, concern etched into your features. ”How… how are you?” you asked tentatively, dreading the answer.
Your husband let out a sigh, his shoulders slumping further. ”It was… rough,” he admitted, his voice tinged with frustration. ”Nothing seemed to go right. Mechanical issues, a pit stop mishap… you name it.”
Your heart sank at his words, knowing how much he had been preparing for this race. ”I'm so sorry, Lewis,” you murmured, reaching out to gently squeeze his shoulder. ”That sounds incredibly tough.”
”Yeah, it was,” he admitted quietly. ”But hey, that's racing, right? You win some, you lose some.”
You could sense the underlying disappointment in his words, the frustration of coming so close to success only to have it slip through his fingers. Your heart ached for him, wishing there was something you could do to ease his pain.
Before you could say anything else, your son's voice rang out from the other room. ”Daddy's home!” he exclaimed, his excitement palpable.
Lewis's face lit up at the sound, a hint of his usual brightness returning. ”Hey there, champ!” he called out, his voice infused with warmth.
Your son came bounding into the room, his eyes wide with excitement. ”Did you win, Daddy?” he asked eagerly.
Lewis hesitated for a moment, a flicker of doubt crossing his features before he managed a small smile. ”Not this time, buddy,” he replied gently. ”But I gave it my best shot.”
Your son nodded understandingly, his disappointment fleeting as he threw himself into his father's arms. ”That's okay, Daddy,” he declared. ”You'll get 'em next time!”
Lewis's smile widened at his words, a genuine sense of pride shining through. ”Thanks, buddy,” he said, his voice filled with gratitude. ”I'll definitely give it my all.”
As Lewis hugged your little bundle of joy to his chest, you couldn't help but feel a swell of pride and admiration for the man standing before you. Despite the disappointment he faced, he remained determined and resilient, his love for his family shining through even in the darkest of times.
It was just another instance where you realized how you would never be as strong as your husband.
You approached them slowly, your heart heavy with empathy. ”Lewis,” you began softly, ”I'm so proud of you. You gave it your all out there, darling.”
He turned to you, his eyes searching yours for reassurance. ”Thanks, love,” he murmured, his voice tinged with gratitude. ”It means a lot to hear you say that.”
You reached out, tracing a gentle finger along his cheek. ”I know it's tough right now, but remember, you're more than just a race car driver. You're an amazing father and an.. alright husband.”
A small smirk tugged at the corners of his lips, a hint of the familiar spark returning to his eyes as he threw his head back and let out a laugh. ”You always know how to lift my spirits,” he admitted, pulling you into a warm embrace.
”I don’t think it matters, anyway. Wish there was a way to skip this season altogether.”
He said it so nonchalantly that you were left blinking your eyes as Lewis tickled your son and left kisses all over his face. It took you a minute to process but you were glad he wasn’t letting it get to him.
Five years ago Lewis would’ve probably lost it but the Lewis who was the father of your child wasn’t a sore loser.
You joined them for a moment, wrapped in each other's arms, the weight of the day slowly lifting from your shoulders. At that moment, it didn't matter that the race hadn't gone as planned. What mattered was the love and support you shared as a family.
As the day wore on, you gathered around the dinner table, sharing stories and laughter as a family. Lewis's infectious energy lifted your spirits, turning what could have been a somber evening into a celebration of togetherness.
”He really colored his camel green?” Lewis snorted, engaging in the conversation smoothly.
”Yes, daddy!” Your son snickered loudly. ”And then he cried when the teacher asked if it was a crocodile.” Your son ranted away, finally having another person to share the tales from his day with, his laughter filling the room with joy.
And as Lewis caught your eye from across the table, his gaze filled with love and gratitude, you knew that no matter what the future held, as long as you had each other, you would always find a reason to smile.
Later that evening, as you tucked your son into bed, you couldn't help but marvel at the resilience of the man beside you. Despite the disappointments of the day, Lewis had remained steadfast in his optimism, his unwavering love for your family being the pillar he leaned on.
”I bet you’re tired,” you whispered as Lewis closed the door to your son’s room, mindful to keep your voice low.
”I know a way you could help me relax then.” He said right back before hoisting you up his shoulders. A loud yelp leaving your mouth that made him chuckle as he walked you both into the master bedroom.
( masterlist \ drop a request )
©maxtermind // do not copy, rewrite or translate any of my work on any platforms.
#★ : my work !#f1#fanfic#formula 1#lewis hamilton imagine#lewis hamilton fanfic#lewis hamilton smut#max f1#lewis hamilton#lewis hamilton fic#lewis hamilton f1#lewis hamilton x reader#f1 fanfic#f1 x reader#lewis hamilton one shot#lewis hamilton x y/n#lewis hamilton x you#lw44 fanfic#lw44#lw44 x reader#lw44 imagine#lw44 fic#lw44 x you#lw44 x y/n#lw44 one shot#formula one imagine#lw44 smut#lewis hamilton imagines#f1 fandom#formula one
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Maybe a Hobie Brown x Mabel-Pines-Type!Reader? Older obviously, with just like, her personality and fashion sense? A Chaotic Sunshine meets Chaotic Rebel type thing.
If not interested, just ignore. But I look forward to whatever you write!
Starstruck (Hobie Brown x Fem!Sunshine!Reader)
Summary: You’re Jess Drew’s gal in the chair (in training), and when you have to make a quick trip the spider society you happen to catch a certain punk’s eye.
Word Count: 2.3k
Warnings: MINOR SPIDERMAN ACROSS THE SPIDERVERSE SPOILERS, use of (Y/N)
A/N: I hope this meets your expectations!! I had alot of fun writing this!
EARTH-1618
KINGS, NEW YORK CITY
Your desk was more glitter than wood at this point.
It was hard to tell where the stickers stopped and where the wood of your desk started.
Especially now, as you squeezed glue on top of whatever artpiece you were currently working on. An array of different paint tubes and what looked like glitter bombs were spread about your work area, dangerously close to what looked like very expensive monitors and pcs. Though it was kind of hard to tell based on all the string worms and star stickers pasted on any surface that wasn’t a screen.
The project, which could only be identified as an oversized button pin upon closer inspection, was coming together nicely. Atleast in your eyes.
It read “BEST SPIDER” with a cute doddle of a spider surrounded by loads of blue, yellow, and red glitter. Currently you were putting your finishing touches on it by attaching color coordinated ribbons to the bottom ruffles.
The craftsmanship alone of it was indeed impressive, you just needed to look past the blinding reflectiveness of it.
It was for your mentor, Spiderwoman.
Who had taken you under her wing for the past two years, “training” you to be the best. Well, best in the sense of “gal in the chair”. At first it didn't make a whole lot of sense to you, but neither did the world you were thrown into. She apparently saw something in you from all the way across the multiverse.
The rest was history.
“(Y-)..(Y/N)...(Y/N)!”
The glue bottle currently in your hands spun in the air, a chaotically beautiful cascade of glue spewing in the air and (thankfully) somehow none of it landed on you. Slowly turning your head, you gave a small wave as you saw said mentor on the screen staring down at you.
“Jess! Hey…did you..did you try calling my watch?”
“What do you think?”
Spinning your chair across the room, you snatched your multiversal watch and flicked the screen on.
You did in fact have about five missed calls from her. You could feel her iced stare from across the room, hell from across dimensions.
“But it was getting in the way of my creative liberties!”
“I don’t care! As the second half of a spider person you need to be available 24/7! Your future spider will need to be able to rely on you.”
Slipping the watch onto your wrist, you shot yourself back over to your desk and smiled widely at her. She knew that whatever scolding she gave you would only have about a few moments effect. Sure the message would stick but she always had that nagging feeling in the back of her mind of how long it truly stuck.
“Well, You have me on the horn now! What's up? Who do I need to aid with my technological wonders? My sleuthing skills? I'm ready to Sherlock it up!”
After a few more long blank faced seconds, Jess reached up to pinch the bridge of her nose.
“We actually need you here. Our resident Spider who usually deals with all of our technological deals is having some connectivity issues.”
Your heart stopped for a moment, but only for a moment before you were shooting out of your seat and whooping. Jumping around your room, you threw your fist in the air before a sudden realization dawned upon you mid air.
It was almost comical how you seemed to pause mid jump.
“Oh my god…I have to change. I can't show up to Spider Society looking like this!”
“(Y/N) there's no time! Grab your bag and get here now.”
Standing in shock, you huffed as you watched your computer screen clip off.
She was crazy if she thought you weren’t at least gonna put on some body glitter.
-
“Jess said to meet her here…do you think she got lost?”
Hobie shrugged, shoving his hands into his vest pockets. His fingers found themselves fiddling with whatever computer chip or part he had nabbed as he leaned against what could be considered a front desk.
“You know ‘er best. She usually punctual?”
Gwen looked up from her watch with an exasperated look. That told Hobie all he needed to know as he leaned his head back with a sigh.
“Listen! I've never met her in person! She’s one of Jess’s other trainees! I just know she's not a spider, and that despite having worked with Jess for two plus years she's never stepped foot in Spider Society!”
“She’s a chair?”
Pinching her nose, Gwen nodded. “Yea. A pretty good one too. She is a bit…eccentric though. And loud…I think she blew my eardrum out one time. I had tinnitus for like a week...”
“So she’s got some vocals on ‘er aye?”
“Thats all you picked up on? C’mon Hobie help me look for anyone who looks lost we’re supposed to chaperon h-”
Usually the portals that opened here were the usual semi-chaotic reality altering ones. But for some reason the one that just opened in front of them was nothing of the sort. No..this one opened with a loud tear; Everything and everyone in the vicinity was enveloped in a neon pink hue.
It was hard to tell who came stumbling out of the portal, as Hobie feared that if he moved his hand he would temporarily blind himself. But as the portal closed, and everything returned to its normal color palette, he finally dared to move his hand.
Maybe he shouldn’t have moved his hand.
Cause he was only met with a very different, blinding sight.
You had just fully stood from what he could only assume was a clumsy entrance. You wore what could only be described as almost every color of the rainbow but someone you pulled it off. There was absolutely no way you could move silently, as you were adorned in a plethora of kandi bracelets, pastel chains and pins. Your hair was adorned in a multitude of clips that matched the ones on your bag.
Was your smile an accessory too? Hobie was sure it was, cause it was blinding him just as much as the body glitter that was spread over your legs and arms were.
His hand slowly reached up to clutch the chest of his jacket, in hopes that it would remind his heart to beat.
It wasn’t until Gwen had elbowed him in the side (hard enough to bruise might he add) that he remembered to breathe.
“Don’t stare, it's rude.”
He didn’t want to look away.
“Hi! Im Gwen…Stacy! We’ve talked a few times over coms?”
You smiled even wider as you grabbed Gwen’s hand and shook it rather violently (or enthusiastically it could have been confused for either). When she removed her hands from your drip it was left brighter than before for only a moment.
“Hi! Its nice to finally put a non-masked face to the name! Im (Y/N). And you are?”
Your sneakers squeaked as you took a sharp turn to face Hobie fully.
“Im Hobie Brown. Quiet the entrance you made.”
He holds his hand out, and is relieved when you shake it for just as long as you did Gwen’s. He watches as it glowed then returned to its normal saturation.
“Yeaaaa. Apparently my Earth is like WAY brighter than most. I would’ve brought sunglasses if I had known that would happen. Anyways…can you show me to the computer lab..hub…wherever this Spider-Byte normally operates?”
Gwen had taken it upon herself to lead the charge, and include a quick run over tour of whatever facility you all happened to pass on the way to the lab.
Everything was so bright, but what amazed you more were the amount of Spider people that were just casually walking about. Either they were coming back from patrol, returning from break or coming for the first time.
You were sure your neck was gonna hurt or have a permanent crook in it from how much you were whipping your head around and turning to take everything in. You weren’t sure when the next time you would be here would be, so you wanted to take it all in.
“And here is where all the computer magic happens! You uh…know what you’ve gotta do from here right?” Gwen awkwardly raised her hands as if to present the lab.
“Yup! Im TECHNICALLY supposed to monitor your guys software and stuff and blah blah blah but I actually connected with Layla on the way here-who is super sweet by the way-and Im actually just gonna fix Spider-Byte’s connectivity issues here so she can get back to it. Y’know since she’s more knowledgeable with everything here. I would probably just mess something up.”
Despite the fact that you spoke about a mile a minute, and it was obvious Gwen was struggling to keep up, Hobie hung onto every word.
You moved like you had been here before despite this being your first time even stepping foot on the premises. You just moved with this sense of self confidence that had the aura of the room commanded by your presence alone. If you hadn’t told them your Earth just naturally saturated Hobie would have just assumed your essence was just too potent that it leaked off you and onto whatever you touched.
You were leagues above him when it came to the coolness factor.
Watching as you moved around the consoles via spinny chair (when did that get there?), each screen popped up and immediately began to run code. Hobie liked to pride himself on being a tech wiz, but this was levels beyond what he knew how to do. Maybe he could learn a thing or two from you.
But as he watched your hands, he noticed…were you TAKING code off the computers too?
Oh, that just brought a smile to his face.
As Gwen wandered over to the other side of the console to watch the miles of code run across the screen, Hobie took the opportunity to have a moment with you on the opposite side of the room.
Right when you went to shoot across him (and might he add it was almost like you had spider like reflexes with how you moved around on this thing), his hand went to grab the back of your chair.
Pulling the chair back, he watched as you rubber banded back into the seat and stood straight up. He leaned over your shoulder to look at the screen in front of you both. His hand reached over to tap a few keys and pull up the results onto just this screen.
Ignoring how his spider senses were shooting down his spine at an all time high with how close he was to you, he looked at you with a smirk.
“Did you just ‘alf inch some of our code?”
“Im sorry?”
Leaning in closer, he pulled the thumb drive out of only this terminal and held it up. Your cheeks turned a dark red in realization to being caught, and you crossed your arm as you started at him.
“You know wha’ I said”
Turning quickly, you pulled ANOTHER flash drive out from your pocket and stuck it into the port. The downloading resumed, and much to Hobie’s surprise you stood and snatched the thumb drive from him.
“First of all, I am part of the ‘’our’’ and second of all…it's none of your business.”
Suddenly multiple of the screens, well practically all of the screens in the room flashed green. With a pat of his shoulder, you rolled over to every computer and pulled out each flashdrive. Hobie counted…12!
He covered his mouth, trying to keep his cool disposition as he watched you quickly shove each one in your bag. You little grifter you…he would definitely have to find out what Earth you were from…
With the push of a button, you turned to them with a smile as you placed your hands on your hips.
“Alrighty! My work here is done…wait..,”
Turning around, you pressed the enter key on the computer behind you only to whip right back around smile as all the screens returned to normal.
You had been here all but twenty minutes and you managed to do solve all of their problems and then some.
“Now Im done! Gwen, you have my contact coordinate. Call me if you need me at all.”
Your eyes raked over Hobie, and you couldn’t help but feel a flutter in your chest as he watched you carefully. The hair on your arms stood when he had leaned over you earlier. You could tell from his punk aesthetic and impressive hair that he was definitely anarchy incarnate…
He intrigued you. You were sure the data files you had picked up from the archives would barely answer every question you had about him.
You would have to push off your paper mache project for tonight…
“It was nice meeting you Hobie! Hope we can meet again sometime. Im like, basically free all the time…Later!”
Signing off with a peace sign, your neon portal opened again and closed in an instant as you fell into it.
“See what I mean, eccentric.”
“I thought she was pretty cool.”
Walking over to where you just stood, Hobie ran his fingers over where you had last touched hoping to catch some of the light leftover.
It was then he noticed you had left behind one of your thumb drives. It was definitely yours, a bright neon yellow covered in white glitter that fell off as he picked it up. His other hand came down to pick up the tag on the string connected to it.
‘Oops! Guess I left behind this VERY important thumb drive. Mind returning it to me? I like really need it for super duper important chair stuff…Earth 1618, Kings, New York City things y'know.
– (Y/N)’
#hobie x reader#hobie brown x reader#hobie brown#spiderpunk x reader#spider punk#x reader#across the spiderverse#oneshot#spiderman across the spiderverse#spiderman across the spiderverse x reader#marvel x reader
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THIS MUST BE MY DREAM — YANG JUNGWON
∿ 📋 SCORE SHEETS ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 Jungwon was living his best life at Earl View Academy. He was scoring the highest marks, dominating every exam, and ranking the top one out of every student. See, he was living his best life at Earl View Academy before you came along, destroying his reputation because of your similar level in academics. It had to be a dream, there was no way someone could compete with him. With that said, he immediately renamed you as the new student to his one and only arch nemesis.
∿ TOP RANKS ✂️ academic-rival!jungwon x fem!reader (ft. jungwon from enhypen, baekseung from epex, and minji from newjeans)
∿ EXAM REVIEW ⟡ insp by doctor slump, long fic, academic rivals to lovers, rivals to lovers, highschool au, nerds to lovers, fluff, crack, and angst.
∿ 📔 STUDY NOTES ୨ৎ swearing, bickering, mentions of pills (painkillers), skipping meals, fainting, crying, being sick, and mental health issues, lmk if i missed anything.
∿ NUMBER OF EXAM QUESTIONS 🎓 14980 words
∿ FEEDBACK . . . and with that said it’s finally done!!!!! took me two months cs i took so many breaks …. happy belated jungwon day? LMFAO… and tysm to @soov for proofreading all the way !!! love u rei <33
∿ STUDY PLAYLIST 🎶 click here!
RANK ONE.
In Earl View Academy, everyone wanted to live Jungwon’s life. He was a son everyone wanted—not his words—and that made him feel good about himself. Even if he was quite the goofball, he still aced all his assignments while having fun.
His life was perfect.
“Jungwon!” His friend, Baekseung called, gaining his attention almost immediately. The boy looked over at his brown-haired friend with a smile, pausing the movements of his pencil gliding against his notebook.
“Hm?” He hummed, waiting for his friend to continue talking. Baekseung took a seat on the window sill beside Jungwon as Minji walked into the classroom.
“Did you see the banner they hung up? It has something to do with University, I believe.” He said as Minji walked towards them.
“Here.” She held out her phone, showing the boys a picture of the banner. It showcased a brief description of what to expect when applying to the University of Seoul and the date of submission—February 9th of 2024.
Jungwon’s birthday.
It was perfect timing, almost as if it was destined to be. His reputation at school and his relationship with his teachers would easily help him get accepted, right?
“The acceptance rate is 40%, which isn’t all bad, but many people apply, so…” Minji explained, turning off her phone, and shoving it into her back pocket. Jungwon tapped his pencil against his chin to a random, yet consistent rhythm in his head.
Jungwon’s friends always enabled his confidence. He was aware of his smartness, but they made it seem bigger than it really was.
“Although a lot of people apply, I’m sure you’ll get accepted. Your application will catch their eyes immediately, trust me.”
Jungwon bit back a smile at Baekseung’s words, sending him an amused nod instead.
“I’m sure it will.” He replied, returning his focus to his notes. Before his friends appeared, he was working on a few equations, to make sure they stuck with him for their test.
It was his way of studying; learn the materials in class and study them like his life depended upon it.
It worked like a charm every time.
“I don’t get how you understand these things.” Baekseung said while peeking over at his work. Jungwon smiled, letting out a chuckle.
He never did, it wasn’t anything new.
“See, you start with your values, then you write out your formula and substitute your variables for your numbers—”
“Enough! You lost me at the word ‘values.’” He exclaimed, causing both Jungwon and Minji to laugh.
“Hey, when you get accepted into the University of Seoul, don’t forget me.” Baekseung pleaded and leaned in with his hands desperately clasped together.
“I won’t, I won’t.”
Jungwon dropped his pencil, letting it lay flat on his notebook, and placed his hands on top of Baekseung’s.
“You have nothing to worry about.” He said, playing along with Baekseung’s act.
“I don’t get how I was pulled into this trio,” Minji said, cringing at the sight before her.
“Yeah, me neither.” Baekseung smiled at Jungwon, then, removed his hands from underneath his, and returned to his spot on the window sill.
“Oh well, here we are now. You love us, right?” Jungwon teased, the cringing expression never leaving Minji’s face.
The two boys stared at her in silence, waiting for her response. They wouldn’t let her off the hook if she didn’t open her mouth to say anything.
“Fine. I do.” She replied, earning bright smiles from her friends in return. She shook her head, a small smile making its way to her face.
It was impossible to avoid their faces. Even if they weren’t trying, they still managed to swoon her over with one look. They were unstoppable together.
Jungwon went back to studying as Minji and Baekseung playfully bickered over a past memory. It was a common occurrence, nothing new.
“I heard they’re selling Yakult in the cafeteria today!” A classmate said to their friend, gaining the three’s attention immediately.
They stopped what they were doing and looked at each other. They gave each other a look that only they could understand. There were no words shared, only their eyes held their words.
Soon after, Baekseung and Jungwon got up from their spots, following behind Minji who led them out of the classroom.
Yakult was their favourite thing ever. It was something all three of them could agree on—that they tasted delightful. Other than that, they all had different tastes in a way.
“Finally, they’re bringing it back!” Minji cheered, happier than ever. Baekseung, who stood in the middle, wrapped his arms around the two to pull them in closer.
“Do we have a plan?” He asked as Minji scoffed.
“Do we even need one? Just do whatever your mind tells you to.” She said and he nodded.
“Smart choice.”
The two conversed alone just as they did back in the classroom, except Jungwon wasn’t studying. He could’ve been included in their conversation right now, they weren’t excluding him at all.
He just didn’t pay attention. He didn’t even take note that they were talking because it all sounded muffled to him.
All he paid attention to was his homeroom teacher who walked down the hallways, lips moving as if he was talking to someone, but Jungwon didn’t know who.
Once he walked past, it was then revealed. A girl stood fairly behind his homeroom teacher, catching Jungwon’s attention.
He had no clue who she was, nor had he ever seen her face before, he ‘didn’t’ even care about what her name was, what time she arrived, what foods she liked, why she was wearing their school’s uniform, or what she had for breakfast.
All he cared about was how pretty she was, and fine, maybe what her name was too. Previously, if someone were to tell him about another being heaven-sent he wouldn’t understand them.
Now, he really does because she, she was heaven-sent to him at least.
“You okay?” Baekseung asked, looking over at Jungwon’s dazed figure. He shook Jungwon with the arm that rested over his shoulder, startling the poor boy.
“Huh? Oh, yeah. I’m okay.”
Well, he hoped he was.
“Sweet, if I’m not wrong, lunch starts in about 3 minutes. Therefore, I believe we’ll be first…” Baekseung paused, his voice growing quieter at the sight before them.
“… In line.” His words were almost like a whisper. He was practically speechless at the line. At least 20 students were already waiting for their Yakult’s.
“Yeah, um, maybe we do need a plan,” Minji said, regretting her previous words. There was no way they’d get through a line like this one.
“Maybe? We 100% need a plan.” Baekseung said, his arms slipping off their shoulders.
“I’m sure we’ll be fine if we just wait. It can’t be that bad—Woah! Okay. Maybe it is bad.” Jungwon’s reassuring words were cut off by his shocked ones.
The line extended even further. How was that even possible?
“Hey, Min, what time is it?” Jungwon asked Minji as she checked her phone that previously sat in her back pocket.
“11:37 AM.” She replied, still flabbergasted at the number of students waiting for their Yakult’s.
“Do you think that will be enough time to visit the nearest convenience store and then come back?” Jungwon asked, desperate for an escape. He was still craving a Yakult, but they wouldn’t get one at this rate.
“It’s 27 (81 Fahrenheit) degrees Celsius outside…” Baekseung muttered, mentally sweating at the thought.
“We can get ice cream as well…” Jungwon whispered, scared that the line of students would overhear his words and run after them.
What if they were craving ice cream too? It wasn’t just the three of them who were feeling hot.
“Smart choice. Yeah, let’s do that instead.” Minji cautiously walked away from the entrance of the cafeteria, careful not to make a sound as the two boys did the same.
Yes, they were being very dramatic right now, but that line of students was very intimidating.
The three returned to class with leftovers of their ice creams, hoping nobody would ask them for at least one lick—it was disgusting to know that they were serious.
“Oh, Jungwon,” Minji said, remembering something from earlier. Jungwon hummed in response, his mouth full of ice cream.
“Did you even start your applications? Our midterms are soon, so I’m sure our guidance counsellors are going to approach you about it.”
“Are you worried for me? Or do you want to use my application as a template for yours?”
“I…” Minji stayed silent as Baekseung stifled a laugh. She sent him a glare, causing him to clear his throat. What was he laughing at? He was bound to do the same exact thing.
“Fine, you caught me. But hey, I have no idea what I’m supposed to do!” She exclaimed as Jungwon chuckled, getting up from his seat to throw away his ice cream wrapper.
“If you want, I can assist you—”
“Guys, guys!” A classmate shouted while running into the classroom shocked. Everyone’s heads turned to look at the said boy, more confused than ever. What lie was he about to spurt next?
“I just saw a pretty, pretty girl in the teacher’s office. I think she’s a new student.” He explained, however, nobody reacted.
“Are you lying to cover up the fact you were being scolded in the office?” Another classmate asked, causing laughs to erupt from other students in the room. Jungwon smiled to himself, that was a good one.
“I’m serious! I heard she might even be smarter than Jungwon!” The student exclaimed, causing Jungwon’s smile to falter and his pen to stop moving.
All eyes were focused on him as he slowly looked up at the shouting boy.
“Eh, I’m sure there’s no one who can compare to his level!” Baekseung said, patting Jungwon on his shoulder and smiling.
Jungwon was considered very smart for someone his age. It was a common compliment he received, but he didn’t hate it. It was quite ego-boosting.
“Everyone! Have a seat please.” Ms. Eun walked through the doors of their classroom, and another student walked in a few moments later.
“Obviously, I’m sure you’re aware of the new student joining our class today! Please make (Name) (Last Name) feel welcome in our classroom!” She explained as Jungwon’s eyes widened.
You were the same girl he saw in the hallways earlier. For some reason, his heart skipped a beat and his ears went numb at the sight of you.
“Oh, Jungwon. (Name) also got perfect on the entrance exam and was the top student at her old school. It must be great to meet someone at your level.” Ms. Eun smiled as all the emotions Jungwon had felt earlier plummeted.
So his classmate wasn’t lying. There was really someone who matched his skill of knowledge.
You looked over at the boy Ms. Eun referred to, noticing the way his expressions switched. At first glance, he was calm, but his eyes said otherwise.
They held an emotion you’ve never seen in anyone else’s—a desire to win. And, of course, you wouldn’t let him achieve that goal of his.
If someone were to win and maintain that top student rank, it would be you and you only.
You two hadn’t even spoken to one another, but within those 2 minutes of staring into each other’s eyes, it was obvious you both saw each other as a threat.
No matter what, only one of you can have that title.
RANK TWO.
“Jungwon, you haven’t looked up from your notebook this whole class,” Minji said, turning around in her seat to face him.
“Literally! There’s not even a single test coming up. What is there to be reviewed at this point?” Baekseung chimed in with a frown.
Yet, Jungwon didn’t look up, easily proving their point. It had been a week since you first arrived at Earl View Academy.
A week since Jungwon first felt threatened by your appearance. His life was perfect until you arrived.
His friends swore they hadn’t had one single hangout since then, but he said otherwise.
“You do know, you reviewing your notes while Minji and I converse without you, isn’t a hangout right?”
Jungwon’s pencil stopped moving for a brief moment, only to start up again at an even faster pace.
He couldn’t fall behind you.
He glanced over at your focused state, glaring in the process. You seemed to be at ease and he wasn’t.
That should’ve been him.
What happened to the perfect life that everyone wanted to live? The one where he could be happy and carefree even while passing all his classes with 100s?
“Don’t tell me you feel threatened—”
Jungwon’s pencil-led snapping silenced Baekseung’s voice almost immediately. He looked up at his friend, eyes darker than usual. There wasn’t his signature gleam that complimented his dimpled smile. He looked like he was ready to kill someone.
“Minji…” Baekseung called, signalling for her to take over the conversation. Sadly, that failed. She was just as scared as him.
“Hey, I could, uh… I could sharpen this for you!” She exclaimed, instead of continuing the same topic as before.
She took the pencil out of his hold, but Jungwon silently searched his pencil case for another one.
He had no time to waste. He was almost done with his notes.
Minji took her seat again, placing the boy’s broken pencil beside his notebook with a soft, yet dragged-out ‘okay.’
There would’ve been no point in going anyway.
“Dude, why don’t you let loose a bit?” A classmate said to their friend and began shaking their shoulders.
“I can’t! You know how my mom is about my grades right now…” He mumbled, embarrassed.
The boy from earlier grabbed his basketball that rolled under his desk and bounced it around him.
“I know you want to play basketball right now, but that’s okay. I’ll just play with Jungwon and his friends.” He informed his friend, turning to look at Jungwon who wasn’t paying attention.
“Yo, Jungwon! Catch this!” He shouted, alerting both of his friends, but him.
He passed the ball, expecting Jungwon—or even Baekseung—to catch the ball, however, there was nothing.
Instead, the loud thud of a ball hitting your head, echoed throughout the classroom. At least, that managed to catch Jungwon’s attention.
Your pen fell out of your hand, landing on the desk. Your ears began to ring as frustration—and a bit of lightheadedness—took over your system.
“Oh shit, I’m so sorry.” The classmate said, making his way over to you with a worried look.
It was only your second day and you were making enemies.
Yet, you couldn’t bother to accept his apology. You looked at him with a facial expression that not even his mom had ever given him. He was terrified.
“Does this classroom look like a circus to you?” You asked as a throbbing pain slowly began to settle in your head.
“Are you so unskilled that you can’t even hold a basketball properly? Actually, are you so childish to the point where you aren’t aware of classroom rules?”
The atmosphere of the classroom vastly shifted. It was quite intense and unsettling.
His mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water stunned by your words. He was speechless, how could he respond to that?
“Please leave me alone, you’d only be a distraction to my studies.” With that said, you returned to your work, acting as if the boy in front of you didn’t exist.
Jungwon’s brows furrowed at the sight, you were being so mean and for what?
The boy shamefully walked back to his seat as all his friends held in their laughs. He was already embarrassed enough, their laughs only adding to the fire.
Forget what Jungwon said about you being heaven-sent, the Devil must’ve sent you instead. He swore if he stared even longer, horns would grow on your head at any given moment.
So, he looked away and continued taking his notes.
“She seems mean,” Baekseung whispered to the two around him. Minji nodded in agreement, mentioning how she got chills from how you stared at the boy.
You proceeded to rub at your temples in an attempt to force away the throbbing migraine coming your way. You couldn’t take a break from studying.
You had to finish reviewing this material before anything at all—not even a meal break was allowed in your Book of Rules.
“What do you guys want to do for lunch?” Baekseung asked, gaining Jungwon and Minji’s attention again.
“I heard they’re going to play Basketball in the gym. You two should play as well!” Minji exclaimed, which only resulted in Jungwon’s head perking up at the sport.
“I’m down,” Jungwon said almost immediately. Baekseung and Minho’s eyebrows rose at his quick decision. It was almost as if he wasn’t studying his butt off while ignoring his two chattery friends a moment ago.
“Are you sure? I thought you had to revise your notes.” Baekseung verbalised his confusion as Jungwon began packing up his belongings.
“I already understand everything. A + B = X times 6–”
“Okay! Okay. No more Math, please.” Baekseung was quick to halt Jungwon’s equation with his index finger. He slowed down his pace when zipping up his backpack, taking in the words Baekseung uttered before.
A smile made its way to the boy’s face at the realisation of his friend's confusion. Baekseung definitely had no clue what they were learning in class.
“Hurry! I don’t want to be late for team decisions.” He exclaimed, hopping off of the desk he sat on.
Jungwon waved off his friend’s pestering and walked out of the classroom, the two trailing behind him.
You, on the other hand, struggled to focus on your work. The whole classroom was quiet and you were the only one left. Everyone had left for lunch, but you.
Yes, you loved quiet, however your migraine didn’t. The accompanied silence only made your migraine throb even more, a faint mic feedback noise to back it up.
Almost like you had a fever.
You placed your pencil down beside your notebook on your desk and stood up from your seat.
A quick stop at the nurse's office wouldn’t hurt anyone, right? It would benefit your studying session and get rid of your pain quite easily.
That was the only exception to your Book of Rules when it came to studying. Nothing else.
Jungwon shot the ball into the hoop, his hair and necktie flowing with his every movement. His uniform sleeves were rolled up, cuffed around the skin above his forearm, helping his gameplay style quite well.
Baekseung smiled at his friend, high-fiving him in the process.
“Nice one! They won’t beat us at this rate.” He said, looking at the scoreboard that read 17-9. Maybe he wasn't exaggerating it like every other time.
Jungwon grinned, his dimples showing faintly. It wasn’t an all-tooth grin, more toothless. His lips were pursed into a thin line and his cheekbones were nearing his under eyes. It was enough to show his appreciation for his friend’s compliment.
His forehead was becoming a slightly sweaty state, causing his previously parted bangs to clump together and loosely stick to the damped skin.
There were 8 more points until the match was done. They didn’t have much time to play 4 full quarters, so they made a bet; first to 25 wins.
Sadly, no rewards could have been won by the players, making this Basketball game more enjoyable than competitive.
Jungwon didn’t have enough time though, he would almost need to return to studying quite soon. Seriously, he couldn’t fall behind someone like you.
“Baek,” Jungwon whispered, hoping it was enough to gain his friend’s attention who stood across from him on the court, but it wasn’t enough at all.
“Baekseung!” Jungwon called while raising his voice a bit over his usual tone. The said boy looked over with widened eyes in shock.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you,” Jungwon said, fighting back a snicker at his friend’s startled state.
“Well, I have to go now. Tell Min I said bye too.” He said and walked past Baekseung, patting his shoulder as a way of saying goodbye.
As he walked out of the gymnasium doors, he shook his head, causing his hair strands to move around, some still sticking on his forehead.
He stretched his limbs and began revising the lesson from earlier.
The hallways were empty, leaving him with more of a quiet atmosphere to focus on his thoughts.
Jungwon’s lips moved, soft whispers of equations and problems leaving them. If there were other people here, they would give him the dirtiest looks right now. He most definitely looked psychotic.
Luckily, there wasn’t anyone. Yet.
The sound of the door sliding shut caught his attention and he looked up to see where it came from.
The nurse’s office was always a popular spot in their school, so it wasn't a shock that someone was leaving the room at this exact moment.
Surprisingly, it was a shock to him. He never thought you were the type to leave your desk ever.
Your brows furrowed at the sight before you.
A sight of disgust.
Yang Jungwon was the last person you wanted to see with your throbbing migraine. He was all sweaty, his hair glistened from the sweat droplets that stuck onto the strands, his necktie was loose, his uniform was dishevelled, and his face was a light shade of red due to the hotness of the gymnasium.
He looked disgusting.
Jungwon had no clue as to why you were glaring at him. He wasn’t the reason you ended up visiting the nurse’s office, so why were you giving him such a dirty look?
He should be the annoyed one at this exact moment. After all, you were the one who moved to Earl View Academy and ruined his ‘perfect’ life.
He looked back at you with a confused yet irritated expression on his features as the two of you stood in silence.
Jungwon’s eyes looked over your appearance, noticing how your hand was propped against your chest and holding an item he had seen before.
Your eyes followed his gaze and then widened at realisation. Out of reflex, you hid the painkillers behind your back, not wanting to come off as weak towards him.
You couldn’t let him see you as someone who wasn’t that much of a threat to his academic success.
In silence, you turned around, moving the pill bottle to your chest again, and made your way back to the classroom. For some reason, your movements aggravated Jungwon’s previous calm state.
God, he hated you so much. He couldn’t believe he once thought you were pretty—it would be a lie if he said he still didn’t. That didn’t matter though, you could be pretty and still have a snotty attitude.
That was a perfect description for you.
Although you thought you left Jungwon behind in front of the nurse’s office, to your dismay, you didn’t.
There he was, standing at the doorway of your once previous quiet study room—or in other words, your homeform classroom.
You rolled your eyes after noticing him at the doorway and looked back at your notes.
He ignored your response to his presence and took a seat at his desk near the window. Jungwon slipped his hand into his backpack, grabbing his pencil case and notebook in the process.
A tense silence followed the two of you as you flipped your pages in sync and continued writing down more things in sync.
You were pausing more than he was due to the pain in your head which only slowed down your movements even more. Yes, you planned on taking the painkillers, but not when he was around.
Still, you couldn’t hold back. You had to do it or else you wouldn’t be able to study one bit.
Although the painkillers mentioned eating a meal before intaking the pills, you refused to follow the instructions. You had no time to take a break and find something to fill your stomach, especially when you were already falling behind Jungwon’s studying pace.
You reached for your bottle of water off your desk and popped a pill in your mouth, scarfing down water right after.
Jungwon looked up at the sound of pills shaking in a bottle. It was obvious it came from you, you were the only other person in the classroom.
It seemed like the basketball to your head earlier really took a toll on you. He didn’t blame you though, it truly did sound like it hurt.
Except, that wasn’t the only thing he noticed. Even if he was in one place all lunch, it seemed like you didn’t leave your seat at all. It was kept the exact same like he last saw it before lunch time.
Luckily, the sound of your stomach growling was enough to answer his unsaid question as he watched your ears turn a shade of red.
As much as you tried to pretend that didn’t happen, you were tremendously embarrassed. Still, you couldn’t eat.
Not yet at least.
“You didn’t hear that.” You mumbled, hoping it was loud enough for Jungwon to catch. He hummed in response while eyeing his work, not paying much attention to your silly incident.
He knew how embarrassing it could have been, so it was best not to engage.
Thankfully, God was on your side, ringing the bell a few seconds after Jungwon had hummed.
Soon after, students began flooding into the classroom and heading to their seats in loud crowds.
Therefore, your quiet time with the last person you wanted to spend it with, had ended.
RANK THREE.
“Jungwon and (Name), please come up and answer the questions on the board.”
Great.
It was only 10:30 AM on a Wednesday, and yet you were already going head-to-head with your rival.
Jungwon confidently made his way to the chalkboard and picked up a piece of chalk from the ledge.
You, on the other hand, paused for a moment after getting up from your seat. You were suddenly feeling lightheaded, and that was never a good sign.
However, if you didn’t make it over fast enough, he would for sure beat you in a blink. And so, you did. You rushed over and picked up a chalk stick, then began writing.
It was a simple equation to you, but to everyone else who didn’t understand the lesson, it wasn’t. It was way more complex to them than how it really was.
Jungwon was already halfway through answering the question whilst you haven’t even started. You wrote the given values on the side to keep track of the numbers you would use.
Easy, right?
Not quite.
You couldn’t focus at all even if there were no distractions nor was it loud in your classroom.
The only thing you could hear was the harsh sounds of Jungwon pressing his chalk against the board after he reached a new step.
Your ears became sensitive to any sound, causing you to even take note of the rhythm his piece of chalk followed when gliding against the blackboard. It was irritating you and annoying.
As much as you wanted to stop him from writing, you couldn’t because it was impossible. Your hand wouldn’t move one bit. Your vision became blurry, eyes fluttering shut and opening in a pattern.
“I think I’m going to faint.” You whispered, your words falling deaf on all ears, aside from Jungwon’s.
He didn’t pay much attention to your sentence, brushing it off as a dumb remark about his handwriting or something.
Truthfully, his calligraphy wasn’t the best when it came to using chalk, so you wouldn’t be wrong if you were to say something mean about it. He would only end up agreeing in the end.
Everything stilled for a brief moment before you lost your feeling in your hands, dropping the piece of chalk you held, and falling against the hardwood floor right after.
Gasps were emitted from your classmates—ones you couldn’t even hear—as Jungwon stilled his movements at the loud thud which caused him to flinch slightly.
Jungwon looked down as he still pressed the chalk on the board, his eyes widening and blood draining from his face at the sight.
“(Name)?” Your teacher called, hurriedly making her way towards your unconscious figure. However, there was no response.
“Hey, Jungwon, you were on the track team last year, right?” Ms. Ling asked as he nodded, swallowing and hoping the nauseated feeling in his stomach would disappear.
Spoiler alert—it didn’t.
“Could you run her to the nurse’s office, please?” She asked, leaving the boy with no other choice but to say yes. If he were to say no, he would seem like a villain, and he couldn’t let that happen.
“Okay.” He mumbled and placed the chalk on the ledge before crouching down, slipping an arm under your legs, and wrapping one around your back for extra support.
To his surprise, you were awfully light. A little too light for an average person. It was quite concerning.
Jungwon shook his head, making all his thoughts disappear in the process. He had no time to waste, he had to get you to the nurse’s office quickly—his teacher’s words, not his.
He slid open the door with his foot, shocked that he even managed to succeed himself, and placed you on an unoccupied bed.
Mrs. Oh, the nurse, emerged from her office with a concerned look after noticing the rush Jungwon was in.
“What’s wrong?” She asked before seeing you who lied unconsciously on the bed.
“She fainted a few moments ago in class.” He explained while running a hand through his hair, followed by a sigh.
“Fainted?” The nurse asked and made her way to your still figure, reaching out to touch your pulse points.
“I don’t think it’s a fatal issue. Just hang around for a bit, I’ll run some short tests then you can tell your teacher why she fainted.” Mrs. Oh said as Jungwon nodded.
He could just ask for the notes from Minji after class.
A few moments later, Mrs. Oh returned with a clipboard in her hand and a concerned look on her face.
“Is it bad?” Jungwon asked, slightly worried about her response.
“Oh, no.” Mrs. Oh said, reassuring the boy, then opened her mouth to say something else.
“Thing is, she hasn’t eaten for the last two days.”
What?
RANK FOUR.
Jungwon walked down the hallways of the school, heading to the vending machine nearby. Mrs. Oh’s words replayed in his head many times. It had been a day since your visit to the nurse’s office, but he was still hooked on Mrs. Oh’s discovery.
He didn’t know why he cared that you hadn’t eaten for two days. That was your problem not his.
Yet, he couldn’t help but feel quite worried about your health. How the hell were you still at his level of academic achievements even if you weren’t eating to fuel your brain?
It was crazy. Not even he could survive an hour without a small snack to keep him going. So, how did you even manage to survive?
More of Mrs. Oh’s words flooded through Jungwon’s head, mainly focusing on the fact she put him in charge of making sure you were eating.
Was it not obvious you two hated each other? Well, maybe not since you were fast asleep, but to him it was.
What the hell was he supposed to do to monitor your food intake? Buy you snacks and drinks from the vending machines at their school?
Actually… that wasn’t such a bad idea. It could work for him, but would it work for you? Would you even accept his offers?
You were hard to work with in the first place. There was no way he would follow upon Mrs. Oh’s request. That was your problem and only yours. Not his.
Nevertheless, that didn’t explain the fact he was currently punching in the number two into the vending machine, expecting two granola bars to follow through the hole.
Of course, it wouldn’t be enough to fill him up this lunch, but he had no other choice. He was already exhausted enough from playing football outdoors, leaving him with no more energy to wait in line for food in the cafeteria.
He grabbed the granola bars and made his way to room 116—his home room.
He was excited for the peace and quiet he was about to experience. Nobody ever came to school this early. It was 7:30 AM after all.
School started at 8:20 AM.
If you were to show up at the bell, he could save the granola bar until lunch and give it to you when the room was empty.
Nobody could know that he was interacting with you, especially not after you two made it clear you wanted nothing to do with each other.
“Oh, hey, Jungwon! It’s been quite a bit since I saw you first thing in the morning.” A faculty member said, greeting the boy. He smiled at the teacher and nodded.
It wasn’t a lie. Jungwon always came early, yes, but he never went straight to class. He was either shooting hoops in the gym or doing his morning jog around the track in the field.
The September breeze blew the trees outside as Jungwon watched the leaves sway while walking to class. The windows in the hallways were wide, emitting a bright light into Earl View Academy.
It really suited the vibe he was going for.
But you didn’t.
Jungwon noticed your focused figure, his mood dropping immediately. He was glad you were okay, but not glad that you were in class.
He wanted alone time today, nothing else.
Jungwon put on a straight face, avoiding eye contact with you while walking to his seat. He swiftly placed the granola bar on your desk and moved away as if he didn’t.
You looked down at the granola bar, then to the boy who walked away in silence.
Before you could say anything, he was quick to silence your ‘irritating’ voice.
“Just eat it. Mrs. Oh is making me monitor your meals even if I don’t want to.”
He said without any other explanation. You looked back at the granola bar, hearing Jungwon sit down and begin opening his snack due to the loud rustling of the wrapper.
Instead of doing the same, you pushed the granola bar to the side and returned back to your studies. Once again, your ‘Book of Rules’ said no meals until you were done reviewing.
Jungwon opened his notebook, flipping through the filled pages to find an empty one and begin his studying. He was holding the granola bar in one hand and eating at the same time.
It wasn’t hard at all, which only confused him since you weren’t doing the same.
“Aren’t you going to eat it?” He asked, but you ignored him, staring into your notebook in silence.
The boy scoffed, looking out the window in disbelief. He doesn’t even know why Mrs. Oh trusted him with this ‘task’. He couldn’t say no though, he would have felt guilty to face her again.
Honestly, he was still shocked at the news from yesterday. What did she mean you didn’t eat for 2 days?
Was this an often routine of yours? Was that why you were so concerningly light when he carried you? You were always studying and never seemed like you took any breaks, which only left him wondering.
Seriously, did you ever eat?
“What?” You asked, stiffening and turning around to look at the bow. There was a look of annoyance present on your face, only causing Jungwon to stare back in confusion.
“What?” He questioned back. Why were you looking at him like that even after you blatantly ignored him a moment ago?
“Why is it your business if I ever eat or not?”
Hold on. Did Jungwon think aloud earlier? Was that why you were acting this way?
“I…” He said, fumbling over his words. Truly, how should he respond to that? You weren’t wrong about it not being his business to care—even if you didn’t say that.
He didn’t want to care if you did or not. Still, he couldn’t explain why he was so curious about it.
“Mrs. Oh told me in the nurse’s office that you fainted because your last meal was two days ago…” Jungwon began as your brows furrowed.
“So? Why should you care if that were to happen or not?” You asked.
Once again, you weren’t wrong.
“You’re telling me, you wouldn’t be a little bit concerned about someone who hadn’t eaten for 2 days?”
“If it was part of my business, sure, but if it’s not, then no.”
Jungwon pursed his lips, unsure of what to say next. He tried to think of it, but it ended up coming out on his own. He would definitely regret this later.
“Why?” He started.
“Why do you do that?”
You remained silent and so did he. There was an obvious tension in the air and the both of you felt it easily.
You averted your eyes away from his overpowering gaze, suddenly feeling all fragile due to his sudden question.
“Mind your own business.” You mumbled before turning around to face your desk again.
Normally, you’d return to studying immediately, but this time you were quiet as you stared at your notebook.
You always had answers for questions. Always. However, nobody had ever asked you a question like that, and for some reason, you couldn’t find an answer for it.
Jungwon sighed and shook his head. He didn’t blame you for not answering and getting all defensive instead. It was a question that could pry into anyone’s private life, and obviously, you two were nowhere near a basis like that.
“At least eat the granola bar. I don’t want Mrs. Oh on my ass about anything.” He said before picking up his pencil and writing on his plain notebook.
At the sound of his words, your gaze shifted to the pink wrapper on the granola, noticing how it was strawberry flavoured, one of your favourites.
Maybe you could reconsider eating the snack he got you even if it was going against your rules. It was obvious he wouldn’t leave you alone if you didn’t.
You unwrapped the granola bar, making sure to not crush the treat inside as the bell went so suddenly.
You were both shocked at how much time went past at such a fast pace as a certain thought crossed your mind.
It was time to start another school day.
RANK FIVE.
Ever since that day, Jungwon continuously dropped you off snacks in a discreet manner.
Although you never wanted to eat them, he made you. Your secret rule was slowly being forgotten because of his actions.
“Hey,” he called from his window seat, causing you to remove an earbud from your ear.
“Are you allergic to anything?”
“Why?”
Jungwon stared at you in silence. Were you really asking him that question?
“So I don’t get you anything that’ll kill you…” He said in a tone of disbelief, but you didn’t react.
“Why are you still doing this? Mrs. Oh must’ve forgotten about my visit by now. You can stop.”
You turned away and continued writing in your notebook, leaving Jungwon baffled.
He hated how you were never wrong. Mrs. Oh definitely forgot about your visit from a few weeks ago, but Jungwon couldn’t stop his habit of giving you snacks.
Why?
“You’re telling me you rather faint continuously?” Jungwon asked, halting the hand that went to put your earbud in your ear.
“That’s not a healthy habit. Seriously, you’re going to end up visiting the ER next.”
“As if that hasn’t happened before.” You mumbled and successfully put your earbud in your ear.
Jungwon’s face contorted in confusion, unsure of what you had said. It didn’t seem like the remark he expected, but he shrugged it off.
Whatever.
“Jungwon!” Baekseung exclaimed, running up to the boy and hugging him from behind.
Jungwon stumbled over his feet at the sudden embrace as Minji chuckled from behind the two.
“You’re acting like you haven’t seen him in a decade.” She said, crossing her arms once she reached them.
The hallway they stood in was empty—aside from the 3 being there.
Jungwon wasn’t even aware that he was in the hallway at the moment. His mind was elsewhere when he left the classroom.
Yes, he said he didn’t care about what you said, but he secretly did.
Did he hit a nerve or did he hit one of your soft spots? For the last few weeks, it was obvious there was a lot to you that nobody knew of, yet, Jungwon was close to finding them out.
He felt bad due to your reaction from earlier and a few days ago. Maybe he should really watch what he says from now on.
“What’s up? Do you have your head up in the clouds or something?” Baekseung asked, teasingly.
Jungwon shook out of his thoughts and looked at the boy.
“That was terrible. Never say that again.” He said, causing Baekseung to frown and Minji to laugh.
“Still, he’s right. What’s up with you lately?” Minji asked.
The three walked down the hallways, passing time before their next period started.
“What do you mean what’s up with me?” He asked, confused at their questions.
“You’re constantly spacing out today. Plus, you’re never running or playing basketball outside in the mornings either. I haven’t seen you for a bit every time I arrive at school.” Baekseung explained.
“Dude!” He exclaimed, tapping Jungwon’s shoulder to bring him back from his trance.
Jungwon looked over at Baekseung, startled from the harsh tap.
“What was that for?!” He exclaimed.
“You were doing it again. Seriously, what’s up with you?”
The three remained silent upon Baekseung’s question; Minji and Baekseung waited for Jungwon’s response while he thought of one.
What the hell was he supposed to say?
“Is it her?” Minji asked, chiming into Jungwon’s thoughts.
“Your rival.” She added after seeing Jungwon’s confused face.
He didn’t reply to her question, instead he stayed quieter than ever. Not a peep came out of his mouth. They were almost sure he stopped breathing too.
“So it is! I knew it. Pay up, Baekseung.” Minji said with a bright smile on her face while holding her hand out in front of Baekseung.
Baekseung frowned, glaring at Jungwon as he reached into his pocket for the 10 dollar bill he promised Minji. She looked at the buck, facing the light in case it was fake.
“It’s not fake!” He exclaimed as she chuckled.
“You never know.” Minji said and slipped the $10 into her pocket.
“Wait, you guys placed a bet on me?” Jungwon asked in disbelief.
“Well, yeah. I bet that you liked (Name) and Baekseung said you were just hooked on your university applications.” Minji said, leaning closer to Jungwon.
“He knows nothing about love.”
“I do!” Baekseung blurted, embarrassed at Minji’s remark. She looked over at her and shushed him with a finger on his lip.
“No, you don’t. Just accept that.”
Jungwon shook his head, still shocked at what his friends managed to do. Why would he even be hooked on his university applications if he was 100 percent sure he’d get accepted?
Plus, liking you was definitely out of his range. Wait, liking you?
“I don’t like her! What made you ever think that?!” He exclaimed, his hands flying up in defence.
“Yes. Yes, you do. Don’t fear it, Jungwon.”
Minji looked over at the boy with a teasing smile. Jungwon was a little terrified at the look Minji gave him with her finger still over Baekseung’s lips.
She truly seemed psychotic.
He began speed walking away from the two with hopes that he could escape the so-called assumptions. How would Minji know he liked you before he even knew himself?
Pfft, she was completely wrong.
Jungwon looked at the board, writing his last bits of notes with small diagrams to go along with them.
He was starving, but luckily, lunch was soon.
Speaking of lunch, he wondered what snack he should bring you today. You refused to tell him what you were allergic to, so he couldn’t just get you anything.
He looked up from his notebook, stealing a glance at your seat.
Well, he thought it was your seat, but instead, there was someone slouched over the desk instead.
He continued looking around for you, maybe you switched seats without him knowing?
No, that couldn’t be it. He saw you in the same seat this morning before classes. So, was it really you who was slouched over the desk?
That was surprising. You were always the one to be over the top when it came to education, yet, here you were knocked out mid-lesson.
“For homework, please complete pages 4 and 6. Enjoy your day everyone!” The teacher said while closing their lesson planner and leaving the classroom.
The bell sounded, signalling that lunch had begun while Baekseung and Minji took that as a chance to bother their friend, Jungwon.
“Hey!” Baekseung cheered, sitting down on the window sill like always.
Jungwon looked up at the boy with a smile as Minji turned around in her seat.
“Seems like you don’t have much of a competition anymore.” She said, silently hinting at the girl who was fast asleep—you.
Not even the bell woke you up. You must’ve had a rough night then.
Even if it had been 5 seconds since Minji spoke, Jungwon’s eyes never left you. He was genuinely concerned for your wellbeing.
“Baekseung, didn’t you say you wanted to go to the fast food restaurant nearby for lunch today?” Minji asked, looking up at the boy who stared back in confusion.
“What—”
Minji silenced him with a light slap on his leg, sending him a glare and mouthed the words ‘play along.’
“Oh, yeah! I’ve been craving a burger all day.” Baekseung blurted while nonchalantly rubbing on his leg and dragging out the word ‘all.’
“Jungwon, did you want anything from the fast food restaurant?” Minji asked and looked at him.
But he was still stuck in his trance.
“We’ll get him fries.” She whispered to the boy on the window sill. The two left as quietly as they could, leaving you and Jungwon alone in the classroom.
He observed your silent state, watching how your back raised softly as you breathed. The sunlight from the windows shined on your face, making your eyelashes more visible than others.
You looked so peaceful and so relaxed. It was the first time he had ever seen you this calm and not stuffing your head in your notebooks, rubbing at your temples in a stressful way, harshly sighing and placing your pencil down when you were feeling tired or didn’t understand the formula. It was a great sight.
Jungwon was so focused on you that he didn't notice the smile on his face.
He was smiling because of his arch nemesis. Well, could he even call you his arch nemesis if he cared about you so much?
Probably not.
The vending machine beeped as the four items hit the bottom of it. Jungwon reached down to grab the items and made his way back to class.
Was he out of his mind for still getting you snacks? Possibly. But he couldn’t stop himself, it became a habit of his.
At least you never wasted the snacks he got you. There was one point of the day where you would eat them casually, not even paying much attention to the item in your hold. It became a habit of yours too.
Eventually, the rule became forgotten, but only at school. It still affected you at home.
You woke up in a panic. The classroom you sat in was empty, just like your notebook. The one you significantly chose for the subject.
You looked around, eyes squinting at the bright light from the uncovered windows, taking in the fact nobody—not even Jungwon—was with you.
Great. You were so behind—something you hated.
You panicked, looking at the board to only be met with erase marks of today’s lesson. There was no way you could scavenge with something so little.
Out of habit, you looked down at your desk and rubbed at your temples with your fingers, more stressed out than ever.
You couldn’t fall behind nor could you fail. That was your worst nightmare. Did your parents care if you were to fail a class or fall behind? Not at all. They only cared about you and your health, yet you hated that.
Honestly, growing up, you tended to be naturally good at the things you did. Your parents were, of course, super proud of you, but you didn’t think it was enough.
You never thought anything was enough.
So, studying continuously, fainting continuously, and even starving yourself continuously became a natural routine of yours just to seek academic validation.
If you weren’t at the top of your class or your studies, you weren’t sure how your future would turn out. You would probably end up lower than ever.
No wonder you were so frustrated with yourself. How could you slack off, let alone fall asleep all class? That was so not like you.
You were very disappointed.
The feeling of a sudden coldness on your arm made you jolt. You looked up, wondering where it came from, only to notice the boy who stood before you, Yang Jungwon.
You both looked into each other’s eyes—for the first time, you weren’t glaring. Your vision was quite blurry because of the tears that threatened to fall while he could see you perfectly fine.
He nonchalantly placed the beverage on your desk followed by the poptart. He then made his way to his seat and sat down silently.
You stared at the two items on your desk, holding back your tears. There was nothing about the bottled coffee or the poptart that made you emotional, it was yourself and Jungwon.
You were jealous of him.
The more you attended Earl View Academy, the more you noticed how everyone adored the boy. Everyone, including staff members.
He made friends quite easily and got along with anyone possible.
However, you were the complete opposite. You had your own circle which consisted entirely of yourself and your studying materials, nothing else.
You rarely conversed with anyone, but when you did, it was always harsh. Things easily ticked you off, causing you to confront the so-called things pretty quickly.
Due to this, you were never envisioned as someone who was approachable. Even if you were on top of your studies and understood everything going on, not even many teachers took a liking to you.
It was rare to see one that did.
There were a few times where you tried to maintain certain friendships, but they all ended quite fast. Their reasonings were always the same—you never had time to hang out with them, but you always had time to study.
They eventually fell tired of you and left you behind to befriend someone else. They always regretted even trying something with you because it always turned out to be a ‘waste of their time.’
Jungwon placed his opened notebook on your desk so you could copy down the notes he took in class.
“The homework is page 4 and 6 today. If you don’t understand anything, I could explain it to you if you want.” He said before walking back to his seat.
He shouldn’t be this helpful to you. You two were ‘rivals’ after all—something you both silently yet mutually agreed on. Nevertheless, he couldn’t help himself. Even the sight of your tear filled eyes managed to make him feel a bit hurt.
He probably wasn’t even the cause of it, yet he felt like he was.
“How do you do it?” You asked, catching him off guard. He looked up from his phone and at the back of your head because you refused to face him in such a vulnerable state.
“Do what? Oh, the work? Hold on, let me—”
“Not that.” You said, interrupting him as he halted in his tracks.
“…Then what?” He asked hesitantly. He genuinely had no clue what you meant. Either Jungwon couldn’t read between the lines, or he was just too stupid.
“How do I be like you?”
RANK SIX.
Jungwon stood in silence, stunned at your sudden question. He was never asked such a thing from someone like you.
Children were always the one to ask him that exact question, which only left him with one possible answer every time.
“You’re already like me. Smart and strong.”
It was very cringey, but every child felt confident after hearing his words. Still, you were nowhere near a child, so how could he respond to your question?
“What do you mean?” Was all he could think of. He didn’t want you to seem weak or anything, so he kept it simple and short.
Maybe an elaboration would help him with an answer next time.
“You’re so… perfect. All staff members and students adore you, or even look up to you. You always balance your time, making enough space to hangout with your friends and study at the same time. You’re athletic, smart, most likely a great son, and your parents are probably so proud of you for maintaining the top student rank continuously.” You ranted, leaving him flattered and quite flustered but confused at the same time.
“Perfect?” He asked, genuinely curious about what made you think that.
“Yes, you’re so perfect. I’m jealous of you.” You added, finishing off your sentence while turning to face him.
“You’re jealous of me?”
Truly, in Jungwon’s eyes there was nothing about him to be jealous of. He had his own ups and downs, but managed to keep his composure around his friends and many others.
“Honestly, (Name), you’re fine the way you are. Yes, you have some unhealthy habits, but that doesn’t mean they can’t change.” Jungwon said while walking towards the seat in front of you.
“I wouldn’t say I’m perfect either. Of course, I’m going to sound a bit cringey, but all of us have things we don’t show. Like, I could’ve cried on my way to class.”
“Did you?”
“Did I do what?” Jungwon asked while taking a seat.
“Oh. No, that was just an example. I would never cry where people could see or hear.”
His eyes slightly widened as he raised his hands up in defence.
“I didn’t mean you shouldn’t! Do whatever you feel comfortable with.” He said, hoping he didn’t offend you.
You used your sleeves to wipe away the few tears that managed to fall, then looked at the boy in front of you.
“I don’t know why I’m about to tell you this, but I really need to get it off my chest.”
“Go on,” Jungwon said in a soft voice.
Although he waited for you to speak, you hesitated. Could you even trust him? You two started off as rivals, and still were rivals, but didn’t show it as much.
Whatever, speaking your mind wouldn’t hurt.
“Honestly, it’s not that I need to be on top of my work for my parents to adore me, they do. They very much do and show it every day, but it’s me who thinks it is not enough.” You said.
“I believe if I’m distracted, I won’t be able to achieve my academic goals to the fullest, you know?”
Jungwon nodded even if he didn’t get what you meant. He understood achieving your academic goals, but not to the point where he couldn’t do so if he were distracted.
“I mean, yeah, but considering eating meals or taking breaks as a distraction isn’t good for your mental health—or your health in general,” Jungwon explained as your eyes narrowed.
“Are you scolding me right now?”
“Quite literally.”
You rolled your eyes at Jungwon’s words, waving them off as if they meant nothing.
“Pretend this didn’t happen. Tell anyone, and I’ll make sure your life in Earl View Academy is almost unbearable.” You threatened, sending daggers at the boy.
“How so?” He asked, curious as to what tricks you could pull.
“I’ll beat you on every test, I’ll beat you on the final exam, and even make sure you don’t get accepted into University of Seoul.”
“Okay… However, in return, you have to at the very least tell me what you’re allergic to.” Jungwon said with pleading eyes.
You were shocked that was all he wanted in return. He really wanted to know what you were allergic to, but why? What good would that bring him if he knew what you could and couldn’t eat?
“Why are you so curious about that?”
“Dude, you really want me to end up killing you?” His words sounded like he was joking, but he wasn’t.
“No… I could just eat what I know I can and what I know I can’t.”
Jungwon continued to stare at you, waiting for you to give him the actual answer he wanted. You sighed and gave into his silent begs.
“There’s nothing.”
He remained quiet, his head tilting like a lost cat.
“There’s nothing that I’m allergic to. I’ll eat anything.” You informed the boy as he held back a smile.
“Perfect.” He whispered before grabbing the notebook he gave you earlier.
“What do you mean by perfect?” You asked, causing Jungwon to glance at you with a slight smile on his lips.
“You’ll see.”
RANK SEVEN.
To be honest, yesterday you went home wondering what Jungwon was hinting at.
He pretended as if he had never brought up anything and proceeded to teach you today’s materials. It was annoying.
Yes, you wanted to know badly, but begging wouldn’t even get him to tell you anything.
You adjusted your name tag while looking in the mirror, wondering what else you should fix up.
There was 5 minutes before you had to leave for school. Five minutes before you would get to see Jungwon.
You had no clue why you were a bit excited to see him. Usually, you never were. It was weird.
Part of you was glad he listened to what you had to say yesterday, it felt nice to get it off your chest. However, the other part of you felt ecstatic and let your heart thump even at the thought of seeing the boy.
What happened to the part of you that deeply hated him?
You couldn’t start liking Jungwon. At least, not when there was a possibility that he still hated you or saw you like his competition.
Right?
Jungwon stretched his limbs before reaching down to tie his laces. It had been a while since he ran around the track in the morning. He wanted to see if he still had it in him.
He couldn’t let his stamina fall because of his so-called continuous studying habits. It was also a great way to get his mind off of things, for example, you.
After yesterday’s conversation, for some reason he felt terrible about what you said. Was it his fault? No. But obviously, there was a time and place where he was in the same boat as you.
Trust him, it wasn’t the best.
This morning, he woke up extra earlier than usual because he had a lot to do—cook. He hand picked a recipe he believed you both would enjoy, and cooked all morning so it was nice and fresh by lunch.
It was way better than constantly getting snacks from the vending machine. Now, you could actually gain nutrients while eating.
He was very excited.
But why? Why was he excited to share a meal with you? There wasn’t anything going on between, aside from your quiet studying times halfway through lunch, the conversation from yesterday, and the times you two have been paired up or went head-to-head in class.
Other than that, what was there to really be excited about?
Jungwon slowed down his pace, then leaned over while placing his hands on his knees to catch his breath.
Or was he just excited to see you? What was the meaning of all this?
Were you the reason his heart raced as if he did his morning runs whenever he was in class? Were you the reason he was always planning what he wanted to buy the two of you on his way to school? He rarely ever did that when you didn’t attend Earl View Academy.
So, were you really the reason?
You took a seat at your desk, pulling out your studying equipment—a normal routine of yours. You always arrived at the same time, 7:30 AM, with Jungwon arriving a little after.
Shockingly, even with 5 minutes passing, he didn’t appear. That was odd, he was always on time.
You shook your head, brushing off the fact he hadn’t arrived yet. The things he taught you yesterday were the only materials you had to review this morning.
You couldn’t fall behind so easily.
When you went home, you decided to take a break. A was a rare sight since you were always studying all night and all morning, nobody could stop you.
But for some reason, Jungwon was able to change part of your ‘unhealthy’ studying habits. At your old school, it was impossible for that to happen. Not even your short-term friendships changed anything.
It was the same old ‘Book of Rules’ you followed with no updates.
The door slid open, showcasing an exhausted Jungwon. He walked over to the seat in front of you and placed the two snacks in an empty spot on your desk then took a seat.
It wasn’t at his actual desk, instead, it was the one in front of you.
“Why do you seem so tired?” You asked, noticing his droopy eyes.
“I ran around the track today. It’s been a while since I’ve done it, so I guess I pushed my limits.” He explained while yawning. He stretched his arms before examining your desk; there was a partially empty space at the edge of your desk.
It looked like it could fit most of his arms and head.
“Can I?” He questioned while gesturing at the spot from earlier. You nodded, not giving him any other reaction.
Your heart was already racing from the ‘close’ proximity he provided. You had to keep it lowkey.
“Thanks. Wake me up a few minutes before the bell.” He said and dozed off to dreamland.
The classroom fell silent, the only thing being heard was the rustling leaves from the wind that travelled through the sky, your pencil gliding on the piece of paper you wrote on, sounding like music to Jungwon’s ears.
It was a relaxing sound. Not even close to irritating.
There were moments where you snuck in a few glances, noticing the way his face looked peaceful and less irritating than when he was wide awake. His breathing was at a usual pace as his back rose and fell at his command.
He was quite the pretty sleeper.
The formula of your work suddenly started to not make any sense. You searched the article you were looking at, realisation only hitting you a bit after.
You were working on your English, not Math. No wonder your formulas weren’t making any sense. Clearly, with how close Jungwon was to you, it was obvious you couldn’t think straight.
How often did someone mix up English work with Mathematics? It was never that often, and yet, you still managed to make the mistake.
You picked up your highlighter, forgetting about the embarrassing situation from earlier, and began highlighting simple concepts that you would need to remember when answering the questions.
Without you knowing, 30 minutes of silence passed between the two of you. You were surprised he didn’t wake up from the sound of your beating heart, because to you, it was quite loud.
You hesitated on waking up the boy in front of you. He was sound asleep. What if he woke up cranky?
Still, he requested for you to wake him up a few minutes before the bell. He wouldn’t be mad if you did so, right?
You softly placed your hand on his shoulder and gently shook him at a slow pace. There wasn’t much momentum, however, it was still enough to wake him up.
His eyes slowly opened, eyeing the area he sat in.
He could barely see, eyes still blurred with his sleepiness. Jungwon blinked a few times before looking in front of him, spotting your shocked figure.
“Morning.” He mumbled, his words cutting short because of a yawn. He stretched his arms before looking over at the clock.
It was only 8:20 AM. It always shocked you how students weren’t filling up the classroom around this time. They always arrived at least 5 minutes before the bell. Even if it was shocking, it was quite satisfying how everyone was still on time.
“What’re you working on?” Jungwon asked, slightly curious about the reason you held a highlighter.
“English,” you muttered. He hummed at your words and continued to inspect your desk.
“You didn’t eat?” He asked, pointing at the neatly kept snacks. It looked the same as when he first gave you them.
You shook your head. You completely forgot about the snacks. Instead, you were more focused on calming your racing heart, so it wouldn’t have woken him up.
“Eat. At least three pieces before the lesson starts.” He said. The snacks he brought the both of you were a small packet of animal crackers. One of Jungwon’s favourites as a child.
You paused for a moment, debating if you should follow through with his request. He was staring at you, once again, causing you to feel fragile under his gaze. There was no way he would stop if you didn’t eat.
You placed your highlighter down and grabbed one of the two packets. Hopefully, that would help his strong state.
Honestly, you couldn’t help but feel taken care of because of Jungwon’s acts. Your parents were amazing to you. There was no doubt about it. Still, with Jungwon, there was a new feeling you’ve never felt with anyone else.
At your old school, you wouldn’t even have a chance at something like this. If you fainted, there was only a tiny bit of shock from others. It happened very often because of your bad habits that it became so natural to those who studied and worked there.
But if you were to faint around Jungwon or anyone else in this school, they would be very worried. The nurse at Earl View Academy even instructed Jungwon to watch over your eating habits.
At first, you didn’t like the idea of having a so-called babysitter, but eventually it felt nice to know someone possibly cared about you. He started off as your number one threat, and became the person you looked forward to seeing most.
To him, you started off as someone he could never trust and his one and only arch nemesis, and became the person he watched over and enjoyed being around.
Well, look how the tables turned.
“Also,” Jungwon said, chiming into your thoughts. Your attention was then focused onto the boy who stood up from his previous seat with his animal crackers in hold.
“You’re doing great.” He said as the bell rang as if it were completing his sentence.
He sat in his assigned seat at the window while students began filling up the classroom. Maybe they were a little delayed today, but your heart for sure wasn’t.
You were concerned as to why Jungwon’s words had such an effect on your wellbeing, judging from how fast your heart rate was going.
You didn’t even know it was possible to experience such a rush of adrenaline. Your face felt warm as you recalled his words.
Was he perhaps referring to yesterday’s incident?
No matter what the reason was, you’ve never been told something like that. It was always about taking a break and slowing your pace. Even mentioning how you were trying too hard and needed to pay more attention to yourself.
But the words ‘you’re doing great’ were different. It felt like they were filling a void in your life that you didn’t even know existed.
Whatever it was, you were thankful.
Thankful for Jungwon.
Jungwon watched as the ball ricocheted off the rim of the net, sighing in disappointment.
“Gosh, straighten up.” Baekseung said and tossed the ball back to his friend.
The trio stood inside the empty gymnasium, shooting hoops for fun, until it became serious. Baekseung was quite literally concerned for Jungwon’s wellbeing.
He was missing every one of his shots.
“You do remember he did Track and not Basketball like you, Baek, right?” Minji asked while flipping through the pages of her book.
“I mean, yeah, but he’s never this bad.” Baekseung replied, emphasising his words.
“I’m literally right here.”
“Oh, my bad.”
Minji chuckled at the two, looking away at her book while placing a bookmark between the two pages she stopped on.
“Won, what’s on your mind?” She asked.
Great, here comes round two.
“I swear we didn’t put a bet on anything this time. Feel free to tell us anything.”
Jungwon sighed, letting himself loose. It was now or never. He needed to settle things, so he could peacefully continue along with his day.
So…
“How would you confirm your feelings for someone?”
RANK EIGHT.
Minji blinked her eyes in silence as Baekseung held the basketball in his hand with a dropped jaw.
Judging by their reactions, it was obvious they didn’t know what to say, leaving Jungwon feeling embarrassed.
“Nevermind, forget I said that.”
“No, no.” Minji said, shaking her head.
“We were just… stunned, that’s all.” She reassured Jungwon who’s ears turned a light shade of red out of embarrassment.
“Is this about a particular someone?” Minji questioned, slightly wanting it to be you.
She had been noticing the difference between Jungwon’s behaviour now and the first time you arrived. Nowadays, he was always looking at you with adoration in his eyes instead of an intense glare.
It was definitely different between you two.
“You know who it is, don’t you?” Jungwon asked, judging by her expression. It looked like she was holding off on saying something. She was terrible at hiding her expressions.
“Wait, I’m so confused,” Baekseung chimed in, dropping the basketball and making his way closer to the two.
“It’s (Name), right? The atmosphere between you two is so much different than before.”
Jungwon remained quiet upon Minji’s words. She wasn’t wrong, but she was very observant. Even Jungwon hadn’t noticed the change between you and him.
“Your silence is the only answer we need.” Baekseung said with a sly smile.
What? Who wouldn’t act the same way after finding out his best friend had a crush on someone?
“It is…” Jungwon mumbled.
“Okay. First question is… how do you feel when you’re near her?”
Oh.
Well, that could go a long way… There was at least a list of possible feelings, so where should he even start?
“Tingly. I feel tingly.” He said, recalling the moments he was with you.
To be honest, he was shocked you hadn’t realised how red the tip of his ears were when he fell asleep in front of you. It was almost an impossible process for him to sleep, but he managed.
“Sometimes, my ears become warm and my heart flutters at the sight of her smile or if I were to make her laugh…” He paused, thinking of more things to say.
“And—”
“Yeah, you definitely like her.” Baekseung interrupted with a shock yet disgusted look on his face.
“I do?” Jungwon asked, looking at the boy with wide eyes.
Baekseung nodded, causing him to look over at Minji who only did the same as Baekseung in return.
“Are you ever going to tell her?” Minji asked, opening up her book once again.
“I’d embarrass myself terribly. We’re still kinda rivals in some way. Wouldn’t it be weird if I were to suddenly confess my attraction to her?”
“Okay, Shakespeare, what the hell do you mean by attraction?” Baekseung asked as Minji chuckled.
“He means feelings, Baek.”
“Oh… That makes sense. I say do it, what is there to waste? You only live once.” He explained as Jungwon rolled his eyes.
It was a corny saying he had been told all his life, but they were never wrong. Things always turned out good for him if he at least tried them. Therefore, it wouldn’t hurt to profess his love for you, right?
“Jungwon, it’s 11:30, don’t you have to go now?” Minji questioned after checking the time on her phone.
“Ah, right. Thanks Min, thanks Baek.” He said before smiling at them and leaving.
To be honest, Jungwon was expecting a longer explanation to his feelings, but comparing these moments to a book, it was awfully obvious that he liked you. It must’ve flown past his head the first time.
You stared at the clock, awaiting Jungwon’s arrival. This was the first time you had caught yourself doing something like this. Usually, your head would be stuffed in your notebook right now, but after discovering these possible feelings for the boy you spend lunch with daily, things have changed.
Your habits must’ve been one of them.
There were moments where you glanced at the door, hoping that he would appear after every glance, but he didn’t.
“Sorry.” A voice emitted from the doorway, heavy panting followed through. Your head whipped over, noticing the boy you were waiting for all this time. He looked up from the floor, making straight eye contact with you.
He was subtly sweaty, making it obvious that he ran here. Yes, it was a disgusting look, but to you…
He looked disgustingly handsome. It was odd, very odd, that the look made your heartbeat race. You couldn’t deny it, you definitely liked Jungwon.
“You’re late.” You said in a teasing tone. You could care less if he was late or not, but it was fun to joke around with him.
“I’m aware.” Jungwon joked back while walking towards his seat.
“Are you hungry?” He asked while reaching into his backpack. You stayed silent, not sure how to answer that question.
“Be honest.” He said in a serious tone and grabbed the meal he cooked this morning.
“A little bit.” You replied as he took a seat in front of you. You eyed the containers he placed on the empty space, causing you to move your notebooks aside to create more.
He opened the containers one-by-one, leaving you stunned with every single meal. Once he was left with one container, he looked up to see your reaction, smiling at your childish look.
“Does it look good?”
His question brought you out of your trance, causing you to straighten up immediately.
“Yes. It looks great.” You said as Jungwon chuckled at your response. You observed the 3 containers, noticing the different aspects of each; one had greens while the others didn’t.
“Oh, I wasn’t sure if you liked greens, so I separated them just in case.” He explained while pointing at the container you stared at.
You nodded at his words and hummed in amusement. Maybe you were only a tad bit hungry before, but now, you were starving.
“You don’t have to wait for me, you can eat.” Jungwon said, gesturing at the meal in front of you two.
You looked at him once then down at the utensils, hesitantly reaching for a spoon. Jungwon picked up on this and grabbed your hand, flipping it over while grabbing the spoon that laid on the napkin. He then placed it into the palm of your hand and looked into your eyes.
“Don’t hesitate, it’s fine.” Jungwon said and flashed you a smile, his dimples catching your eyes immediately.
Well, maybe you weren’t hesitating on eating anymore, but you were definitely still hesitant about something…
Confessing your feelings to the boy before you.
Yeah, that could wait.
RANK NINE.
Two days ago, Jungwon had a talk with his two friends. He was reassured about his feelings for you, finalising them to a certain extent.
Today, he claimed he was ready to confess. He wouldn’t back away from doing so, and plus, there ‘wasn’t’ much time until graduation (it was 7 months away).
Of course, it was a lie. He had to make an excuse to be able to push himself to tell you how he really felt.
You, on the other hand, thought the same. But, you weren’t sure how you would approach him in a way where it wouldn’t be as awkward as you imagined.
Still, that would have to wait for the perfect time today. You couldn’t mess this up.
As your teacher spoke, your head became drowsy. Your notes seemed messy due to your eyesight blurring and nothing was comprehendible.
You shook your head, an attempt to regain your composure, but that didn’t work either.
“Okay, everyone. I’ll leave the rest of this period for individual work time.” Your teacher said even if there was only 5 minutes before lunch.
“Soccer today?” Baekseung asked Jungwon who wrote in his notebook.
He nodded at his friend’s request, causing the boy to smile. It had been a while since they went to play soccer and not basketball, so it would be quite fun to reminisce about the past.
The bell went, making 5 minutes feel like 30 seconds. To others it must’ve felt long, but to you, it felt short. You couldn’t focus on anything around you, not even the time. The throbbing headache that made its way into your system, as well as the nauseating feeling was all that occupied your mind.
Nothing else.
Not even the fact Jungwon was standing beside you right now.
“You alright?” He asked. You looked up at him, your head spinning at the movement. It was quiet in the classroom, hinting at the fact there was practically nobody left aside from the two of you.
“Yeah, I’m fine.” Lies. You were far from feeling ‘fine’. However, you couldn’t let him worry as much as he did about your eating habits.
You managed to flash him a convincing smile as he did the same. The gentle pat on your head before leaving felt comforting knowing it was from Jungwon and no one else.
“I’ll be back.” He said as he walked out the classroom, leaving you alone in silence.
You weren’t able to tell if the heat that crept up your neck was from his subtle action, or the developing fever that made its way towards you. Honestly, you could care less. It wouldn’t stop you from studying anyway.
And, well, maybe preparing your confession for the said boy.
The mesh of the net ricocheted as the ball glided against the barrier. The goalie was on the floor, the outcome of his failed attempt at blocking the ball.
“It’s okay! That was a good try.” A teammate reassured while helping the male up on his feet.
Once the ball was thrown into play, Baekseung scanned the area, searching for an open target to send the ball to. Teamwork was all that mattered when playing sports, so, why not include everyone even if he could shoot the ball himself?
You looked out the window, noticing the view of the many boys who kicked around a soccer ball. It wasn’t the best view, but you were still able to see a few faces—Jungwon’s especially.
Most of you wanted to get a closer look. It would be nice to take a short break from studying, right? It couldn’t hurt your academics that much…
You rose from your seat, head spinning once again. It was unbearable, but you’ve experienced worse.
See, you’ve definitely experienced worse. So, why were you on the verge of passing out, once again?
You stood in front of the window sill Jungwon’s friend, Baekseung, would always sit on. Your grip tightened the ledge, losing balance in your legs. Your vision became even blurry than before as your mind became foggy.
Yeah, you were definitely about to knock out cold. There was no way you would manage to stay conscious.
A moment after coming to terms with the fact you were about to faint, your body hit the floor, leaving the space between two desks occupied.
Your eyes were slowly closing as the warmth of a hand was placed on your face. Ears ringing, making anything that person said incoherent.
It was a terrible feeling. Maybe you should’ve gone to the nurse’s office at the beginning of your fever.
Yeah… Maybe.
“It’s 11:30, I have to go.” Jungwon said after checking the time on his watch. He waved goodbye to those he played with on the field, then looked at the classroom window, a smile making its way to his face.
Now it was time for 30 minutes with you.
But where were you? He scanned the empty classroom, yet you were nowhere to be found. Your stuff wasn't there either.
You weren’t there.
He was confused. You never left your seat, no matter the reason. So, where could you have gone?
Jungwon had no clue where he was going, letting his feet take him wherever. Suddenly, he was in front of the nurse’s office. Not even he knew why he was here.
Without hesitation, he slid open the door, a wave of nostalgia hitting him. Except, you weren’t in his arms like before.
“Oh, Jungwon. What brings you here?” Mrs. Oh greets almost immediately. That was a great question.
What brought him here?
“I’m not sure.” Jungwon said, not knowing what else to say. It wasn’t his fault he didn’t know.
“What do you mean?” She questioned, confused. That was the first time she received an answer like his.
The boy stared at the nurse in silence. It was awkward for her, but not for him.
Seriously, why was he brought here?
“Is… Is (Name) here?” He asked. Part of him regretted letting his so-called question slip out while the other part hoped you were here.
Other than that, he wouldn’t have any other ideas about where you could possibly be right now.
“Oh, yes, she is. Were you looking for her?” Mrs. Oh questioned, a slight smile plastered on her face.
Jungwon nodded, not wanting to say anything else. He already embarrassed himself enough.
He followed the direction the nurse pointed in, heading to where you were supposedly lying down.
“Apparently, she fainted in class again. One of your classmates brought her over… Turns out she had a raging fever.”
So, he wasn’t hallucinating the pained expression you gave him at the start of lunch.
At the sounds of his footsteps, you turned around fast, pretending to be asleep.
“I saw you.” Jungwon said, pulling your curtains aside.
“Nice try.” He took a seat beside you as you bit your bottom lip, eyes squinting in defeat.
“Are you feeling better?”
You turned around at his words to face him. The damped cloth that rested on your forehead slowly slipped off, causing him to catch it.
“A little bit.” You said as he adjusted the cloth.
You weren’t lying about it being a little bit. At least you were now able to move.
“Did you take medication?”
You nodded, noticing the fact he was only going to continue asking questions about your wellbeing.
“I heard you fainted… Are you sure you’re okay?” He asked, the worry finally sinking in.
“Yeah, I’m fine. I got up to look out the window, but I guess I overestimated my ability.” You said with a light laugh.
“Why would you get up to look out the window if you were already feeling unwell?” He asked with furrowed brows.
It was only common sense, you should’ve made your way to the nurse's office. Not somewhere to admire scenery.
“Are you lecturing me, again?” You asked, referring to the conversation in the classroom from a while ago.
“Yes. You need to take care of yourself more.”
“But if I said I was trying to watch you play soccer, then what?”
Jungwon felt his heart skip a beat.
Okay. Maybe you got him there.
“T-That doesn’t matter. Your health comes first.” He mentally cursed at himself for stuttering. Your words must’ve taken a toll on him.
“You’re boring.” You said before looking away from the boy.
To be honest, this would be the best time to confess, right?
Mrs. Oh had left the office a while ago, meaning it was just the two of you left alone.
When would Jungwon ever get another opportunity like this one?
“Listen,” he started, gaining your attention all over again. You look over at him, waiting for him to continue his sentence.
“I know grades are important, but your health is too. Please prioritise your health as well, okay?” Jungwon paused, hesitating with his next words.
It was now or never.
“I don't want to fall in love with a corpse. It’ll be better if it were just you.”
You stared at the boy, stunned. You couldn’t tell if your temperature was rising or you were flustered by his sudden confession.
An awkward silence followed through, as he felt his heart sink.
Did he just mess everything up?
“Anyways… have you drank anything yet?” Jungwon asked, switching the topic really fast.
“No…” You whispered.
He nodded his head, pursing his lips and patted his thighs.
“Okay. I’ll go get you something.” He said before rising up from his seat and leaving quite fast.
You felt bad. If it were a confession, you just left him hanging.
Jungwon pushed the buttons on the vending machine with pressure. He was embarrassed.
Very embarrassed.
He didn’t want to show himself in that room ever again. The atmosphere was definitely still the same as before—awkward and unbearable.
Maybe he shouldn’t have taken his friend's advice. He could’ve saved himself from experiencing this sort of regret.
The sound of the juice boxes falling from their designated spots caught Jungwon’s attention. He whined at the sound, not wanting to go back at all.
Still, he couldn’t keep you waiting.
His plan of pretending nothing happened was now set in motion. It wouldn’t be that hard to forget the previous interaction, right?
“I hope you like orange juice—”
“Was that a confession earlier or was I going crazy?”
So much for pretending nothing happened.
He stumbled in his tracks, he was nowhere near your bed yet.
“Was it?” You asked, quite literally pestering a response from him.
Jungwon mumbled something to himself. Something along the lines of hoping he doesn’t mess things up further.
“Yes, it was.” He said, a heavy sigh following through.
Although his sigh sounded stressed, yours sounded relieved.
“Oh, that’s good. I thought I was the only one.” You said, causing Jungwon to make his way to your bed even faster.
“What do you mean?” He asked, his hands carrying the juice boxes and a confused expression on his face.
“Is it not obvious?” You asked, but he remained still.
Clearly, it wasn’t.
You sighed, disappointed that he couldn’t read between the lines with that brain of his.
“I like you too, Jungwon.”
RANK TEN.
“It really happened?!” Baekseung exclaimed, shocked. Jungwon covered his mouth with a hand, not wanting the whole world to hear about yesterday’s interaction.
“Then what?” Minji asked.
“It’s a secret.” Jungwon said with a teasing smile. Minji rolled her eyes at his response. It definitely wasn’t what she wanted to hear.
The classroom door slid open, gaining his attention quickly. You walked into the classroom, holding your books to your chest.
A smile of adoration made its way to Jungwon’s face as you looked over at him, smiling.
Minji observed the interaction with curious eyes.
“What the hell? Never do that again, please.” Baekseung said, removing Jungwon’s hand from his mouth.
“Wait so… Are you guys, well, dating now?” Minji asked.
“Woah, no.” He said, raising his hands up in defence.
“So, you guys just confessed to each other and that was all?” She asked in a more hushed tone since you arrived.
Jungwon nodded.
Minji was about to say something else, but the bell rang, cutting her off before she could even start. The teacher walked in, addressing everyone to return to their seats.
You smiled to yourself and pulled out your phone to send the boy a text.
“Nice one.” It read with a smiley emoji.
Jungwon’s phone dinged, causing him to look at it. A smile made its way to his face as he read the message.
He was lying to his friends the whole time. Yes, that was bad to do, but it was the best way of keeping your official relationship with each other a secret.
They could know you two confessed to each other, but not that you were dating.
To be honest, Jungwon never saw this coming. He always thought you would be someone he hated because he never knew it was possible to meet somebody who was at his level.
He truly thought he was dreaming when he first saw you and learned about that information.
But right now, he was thankful he wasn’t and was thankful that you were someone who he fell in love with.
Ξ ©HAKNOM, 2024
#📋 — tmbmd#k-films#k-labels#kpop fluff#enhypen#enhypen x reader#enha x reader#enhypen fluff#yang jungwon fluff#jungwon x reader#yang jungwon x reader#jungwon#yang jungwon#yang jungwon angst#jungwon angst#jungwon fluff#jungwon enha#enha jungwon#enha#enha fluff#jungwon enhypen#enhypen jungwon#jungwon imagines#jungwon headcanons#jungwon scenarios#enhypen angst#enha angst#enha imagines#enhypen scenarios#enhypen fic
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Spittle - Part 2/2 (Astarion/F!Reader)
Summary: The chocolate seems innocent enough - if you look past the Infernal writing on the wrapper, and with so few pleasures in the wilderness, you all but jump at the chance to sneak yourself a small treat.
Unbeknownst to you, the bar is infused with succubus spittle. Just one square is rumored to contain enough potency to send a mortal into the throes of ecstasy.
This is what happens when you eat half the bar.
Fic Tags: Sex Pollen (kinda), aphrodisiacs, a bit of dom!Astarion, unprotected piv, overstimulation, he talks you through it (iykyk),
Fic Warnings: Explicit Smut (18+ MDNI), Language, No use of Y/N, magical influence
Read Part 1: Here
Read on AO3: Here
Word Count: 4k
A/N: Wow. I'll try to make this brief. First of all, I just want to say thank you all so much for your continued support. I know this took me forever to write, but I've been going through a lot of emotional turmoil with school and some health issues with my animals. Your patience means so much to me, and I can only hope this lives up to everyone's expectations! This is my first time writing smut, and ngl I feel a bit like Icarus, so let me know if y'all liked it. Last, but not least, thanks again to my bestie/beta @imaginarydromedary for holding my hand through the shame.
Astarion sits quietly beside the fire, absently picking the dirt from beneath his manicured nails. The night had unfolded like countless others before it: boring, mundane. Uneventful.
Perhaps he should retire early. The Realm According to Bumpo sits patiently atop the desk in his tent, and if he heads to bed now, he could potentially finish a chapter before his watch begins.
He stands, patting the dust off his trousers, just as Shadowheart emerges from your tent. He initially doesn’t pay her any mind - fails to notice the concern etched across her face.
“Astarion.”
He snaps to attention, recognizing the fear in her voice.
Astarion’s stomach sinks when their eyes meet. Shadowheart isn’t normally one to succumb to panic, but she looks as though she’s just stumbled out of a wolf’s den.
“What is it? What’s wrong?”
“I don’t know. She - I’ve never seen…” Shadowheart pauses, taking a steadying breath. “She’s feverish. She was fine only hours ago. I heard a cry from her tent and feared something was amiss. When I found her, she…” The cleric hesitates, eyes contemplative - as if weighing exactly how much she wants to reveal.
“Out with it, damn it!”
“Is there any chance she’s been poisoned? You two stayed behind, back in the village. Did she come into contact with anything that might have pierced her skin?”
“Poisoned? No, she -” Astarion retraces the events, turning over your brief conversations in his head before landing on the only noteworthy detail he can think of.
He taps a finger on his chin, a thoughtful smile creasing his face. “Unless, of course, the Infernal chocolates didn’t agree with her.”
“I’m sorry, the what?”
“The chocolate she found at the apothecary. I assumed she hid it away so she could enjoy her little treat, unbothered. There was Infernal text on the wrapper.”
She stares at him with wide eyes, jaw slack with disbelief. “And you didn’t think to mention this earlier?”
Astarion shrugs, unfazed.
“Where’s Wyll?”
He rolls his eyes. “How should I know? I’m not his keeper.”
“Astarion!”
“Oh, come on. That chocolate must have been at least a decade old. Are you certain this isn’t just some sort of stomach bug?”
The cleric shoves past him, groaning in exasperation. She shoots him a glare and mutters, “I’m certain,” before jogging in the direction of Wyll’s tent.
“Infused with succubus spittle. Just one bite will have you and that special someone rolling around for hours. Consume responsibly."
Astarion giggles boyishly. “An aphrodisiac? How fun.”
Wyll squints as he silently reads the next bit to himself, fingers tracing the text. He turns to Shadowheart, jaw tightening, "How much of this did you say she ingested?"
"I only found half the bar."
Wyll’s expression grows more serious. "This says the recommended serving size is one square… How many squares were left?"
“Oh, gods…” she breathes, "Six."
The three exchange silent, worried glances.
“Could she die from this?” Shadowheart asks, her voice trembling with uncertainty.
Wyll’s lips press into a thin line. In truth, he doesn’t know the answer. He could ask Mizora for guidance, but the devil’s been awfully silent after his recent failures. He isn’t sure she'd be willing to answer him, let alone grant any favors. Still, it may be worth a call.
Just as Wyll’s about to suggest it, Astarion heaves a deep, dramatic sigh, throwing his hands up in defeat.
“Alright, I know what we’re all thinking. I’ll take care of this.”
The other two regard each other, thoroughly confused.
“Look," Astarion explains, I may not be well-versed in magic, or magical remedies, for that matter, but now that we know what’s causing this… I think it’s obvious what needs to be done.”
“You’re joking.” Shadowheart laughs, incredulously.
“No,” he continues, “We can’t just sit here and hope for the best. We need to act quickly, and let's just say, this fits into my... skill set.”
“So, you’re going to, what? Have sex with her? You think she’ll be capable of saying anything but yes, given the state she’s in?”
Astarion shoots her a glare. The mere thought that he’d ever so much as suggest doing something like that - bedding you when you’re too weak to reject him - the very idea of it makes him sick.
He isn’t that evil.
“Watch your tongue,” he spits at her, “before I do us all the favor of removing it.”
“Hang on, you two,” Wyll interjects, “Astarion, I think you might have a point. You would know better than anyone whether she’s in a right enough state of mind to… consent to this. You’re closest to her. She trusts you.”
He turns to Shadowheart, “It’s worth a try.”
Astarion notices two things as he pulls back the flap of your tent.
The first is that it is unseasonably warm. Scorching hot, like summer. A stark contrast from the welcoming cool of the early spring night behind him.
And second, that the air in the tent is heavy - heady with the scent of sweat and something else he can’t quite identify. It's clouding his senses, making his head swim. The taste of it settles on his tongue, like salt on the rim of an otherwise very sweet drink.
The moonlight at his back casts a dark shadow over your sleeping form. Astarion hesitates for a moment, taking in the sight of you, vulnerable and oblivious to his presence, feeling too much like a wolf looming over a snared rabbit.
You twitch, grimacing in pain.
He frowns. This wasn’t the way he wanted to go about seducing you. His plan was much more sophisticated: a carafe of wine, a few honeyed words leading to a night of passion, your endless thanks, all culminating in some well-earned release and his assured protection.
A mutual exchange.
But, this?
He’s roused from his thoughts by another grunt, escaping from between your clenched teeth.
Whatever you’re going through, it looks like hell.
Ugh. You know what? Fine. Maybe this isn’t the way he envisioned it, but when has life ever blessed him with a perfect scenario? He’ll offer his… services, and respect whatever answer you give him. If you refuse him now, he can always try again later. Under less perilous circumstances, provided you survive the night.
And if not, well, he's never been one to play the hero, but at least he tried.
He steps further inside, closing the entrance behind him. The moment he seals the tent shut, there is a palpable shift. The space feels infinitely heavier, laden with unnatural energy, reminiscent of anticipation, but just slightly… off.
He breathes, trying to focus on anything but that intoxicating scent. The haze of it is maddening.
The elf sits on his knees beside you, hands resting in his lap.
He clears his throat, hoping the sound would be enough to wake you.
There’s no response.
He whispers your name.
Nothing.
No choice, then.
He drums a finger against your bare arm.
The cleric was right. Your skin is so hot, it borders on scalding.
Finally, you begin to stir.
-
Again. It happened again.
As soon as you closed your eyes to rest, you saw him - That thing that wore his skin. You felt his hands and mouth as he ravaged you until you fell apart beneath him, above him, wrapped around him, like he was everywhere all at once.
He was demanding as he took pleasure from you. Ravenous. Mocking your cries, your begging.
The hours stretched into what felt like lifetimes, and you’d nearly given up hope, resigning yourself to the idea that this was your new, endless reality.
Until suddenly, you hear a voice that pulls you from the dark recesses of your subconscious-- the very voice being used to torture you
Your name, uttered quietly by Astarion. Just Astarion. No second, more sinister layer beneath it.
Your eyelids flutter, then widen as a chilling realization washes over you.
He’s touching you. The pads of his fingers are both a balm and an irritant, soothing and igniting the flames licking at the corners of your mind.
“You look like you’ve seen better days.” He teases.
You recoil from his touch, sitting upwards and crawling back away from him.
He can’t be here. He, of all people, can’t be here.
And yet, something within you is screeching in delight.
'That’s him, isn’t it? The object of your desires? How fun!’
You swallow. Hard.
“Astarion, I -”
He holds up a hand, silencing you. “I’m aware.”
“Shadowheart informed us of your… predicament,” he continues, “I can’t help but feel partly responsible, seeing as I was there when you found the chocolate -”
“The chocolate? Is that - wait, what?”
Shit. Your head is pounding.
You press your palms against your eyes and groan.
“I’ll spare you the details, but that chocolate was laced with succubus spittle - a highly potent aphrodisiac - and you, my dear, have consumed enough to bring an entire brothel to its knees.”
Your eyes snap open, meeting his own. There isn’t an ounce of humor in his tone. No sign of his usual mischief.
Gods, he’s being fucking serious.
“Now, as amusing as this might be if it were anyone else, I’d prefer it if our party’s leader made it out of this alive, and that leaves us with a choice."
You gaze at him silently, waiting as the candlelight paints his sharp features in warm hues of amber and honey.
'He’s quite handsome. I see why you like him.’
“You can ride this out alone,” Astarion explains, “Shadowheart will return with her best salves and more potions for the fever. We’ll hope this passes quickly, but Wyll’s translation suggests the amount you consumed could leave you in this state for up to a week.”
Your stomach churns. You’re going to be sick.
“And the alternative?” you manage to ask.
His hand finds yours, fingers intertwining with your own. Your skin prickles at the contact.
“The alternative is that you let me help you through this. Consider it a repayment, of sorts, for gifting me your blood. I’m somewhat of an expert on… well,” he lets out a humorless laugh, “let’s just say, I’m the best chance you’ve got.”
Maybe it's the blood roaring in your ears, or maybe you’re still dreaming, but it sounds like Astarion is offering to… fuck you?
“I’m sorry, what?”
He groans, visibly frustrated. “Sex, my dear. If the magic is compelling you to have it, I think we should listen.”
‘Handsome and smart.’
You hiss, “Would you please shut up?”
Astarion squints. “What was that?”
“Nothing, sorry.” You clear your throat. “Listen, I - I get what you’re trying to do. I appreciate it, really, but -”
Pain lances through your abdomen, a sharp, icy shard that interrupts your words. You clutch at your side, releasing Astarion’s hand before falling helplessly on your back, twisting in agony.
He inches closer, voice tinged with urgency. “We’re running out of time. If you want my help, it's best to ask now, because as much as I love the idea of you begging for me to bed you, I won’t be comfortable doing this unless you agree to this while you’ve still got your wits about you.”
Tears sting the corners of your eyes, blurring your vision at the edges. He’s right. You don’t think you can endure this alone, and as much as you fucking hate to admit it, the damned succubus magic - that thing - is right.
You do desire him. You’ve wanted him since the moment you met beside the nautiloid. Now here he is, offering to alleviate your suffering.
There’s just one part of his offer that you can’t quite come to terms with.
“I didn’t let you drink from me because I was hoping you’d repay me.” Your voice warbles, wet and stressed, “I can’t have sex with you if it’ll just be part of some ridiculous transaction. Not with anyone, and certainly not with you.”
His expression softens as your words sink in. It’s a confession, of sorts. The kind he’s wholly unfamiliar with. It stuns him almost to the point of speechlessness.
“My apologies. Believe me, it was more of an excuse than anything. I didn’t mean to suggest…” He lets his words trail off, shaking his head. You two can revisit this conversation later, when time isn’t of the essence. “It doesn’t matter. I want to do this. Let me help you.”
The sincerity in his voice sends a shiver up your spine.
It’s clear he means this.
He means every word.
You nod. “Okay.”
Astarion clears his throat, rolling the tension off his shoulders.
“Good. Now that we’ve got that taken care of,” he says as he throws one of his legs over your waist, straddling you, “Why don’t you lie back and let me take care of this, hm?”
His posture is relaxed. Confident. He regards you with hooded eyes and the faintest hint of a smirk. It’s quite the sight, one you’d enjoy significantly more if your body wasn’t busy screaming for his attention.
His deft hands make quick work of the laces of your shirt, and with every string that loosens, your composure unravels further. You squirm, unable to resist the heat that teases your skin and the growing itch beneath it.
As if Astarion can sense your rising panic, he places a cool palm against your burning cheek, his touch both gentle and practiced as he rubs smooth circles at the dip of your temple.
“Relax, dear,” he whispers, both a request and a command. The gentle lilt in his voice masks the underlying authority, but your body obeys all the same, tension releasing from your muscles. “I’ve got you.”
Astarion quickly rids you of the offending fabric, chest and stomach now bared to him. His eyes scan over your form with focused intensity, lips pinched between his teeth, like an artist deciding what to make of their blank canvas.
“Normally, I’d take my time with this,” he admits, “but given the circumstances…” He swiftly undoes the buttons of your trousers before yanking them off along with your smallclothes. One single, fluid motion.
He can’t hide the mild shock that follows when he sees the state of you - dripping wet, red and pulsing with need.
He dips the tip of his finger between your folds. It glides over velvet skin, coating the digit in warm, wet slick. A strangled, pitiful noise escapes from your throat.
For a moment, Astarion’s calculated expression falters, surprised by the rate at which your body opens itself up to him. A glint of hunger lurks beneath the surface.
“This may be easier than I thought.” He says with a smirk, more to himself than to you.
He presses two digits in, slow and intentional. There’s no resistance; A knife through warm butter. You’re dripping down his knuckles, gripping around him like a vice. He slides all the way in until the heel of his palm meets your clit.
“Breathe.”
Not even realizing you’d been holding your breath, you release it with a shutter.
“Very good.” He punctuates his words with the slow drag of his fingers. Long, languid movements. He’s taking his sweet time with you, pulling scandalous little cries from your lips. It’s like he’s toying with you - seeing how long you can hold out before breaking.
It doesn’t take much time at all.
“Astarion -”
“Yes?”
“Please.”
“Please, what? What do you need, darling?” His eyes are fixed on your own, grin tugging at the edge of his mouth. A cat playing with a cornered mouse.
“More. Anything.”
He hums in approval, then wets the pad of his thumb on his tongue before drawing circles exactly where you need. Heat coils at the base of your spine, forming a ball of tension that threatens to snap.
The sheer intensity of it is enough to scare you, caught between the urge to chase the sensation or flee from it. “Astarion, I -”
He ignores your warning as if he hadn’t heard it, plunging his fingers into your heat and curling them - expertly caressing a spot that threatens to shatter you. Your hands fly out, gripping the fabric of his shirt, the sheets beneath you, anything in a desperate attempt to ground yourself.
“Go on, love. Let it out. I’ve got you.”
Your body seizes as your orgasm tears through you, igniting every one of your oversensitive nerves. Back arching off the bedroll, several strangled sounds - almost pained - rip from your throat. The pleasure threatens to tear you apart, but the thick fog of lust occupying your mind begins to subside, offering the slightest bit of clarity as you twitch beneath him.
Astarion grabs you by the jaw, tilting your head this way and that, admiring his handiwork. He's quite pleased with himself, with the mess he's made of you - jaw slack and brows pinched. He coaxes out the aftershocks, watching you squeeze around his fingers.
"There,” he gives you a playful pat on the cheek, "You're looking better already."
"You're - agh - enjoying this too much."
"I never said I wasn't going to enjoy it."
A beat of silence passes between the two of you as he allows you to catch your breath. For a moment, you think the coast is clear - that maybe, this was as far as things had to go. This was what the magic was compelling you to do, or at the very least - it was close enough. You fulfilled its wishes. Surely.
But then he pulls out of you, and the second you feel the vacuum of emptiness where his fingers once were, that voice in your head is screeching like some sort of petulant child. It pouts, waggling its non-existent finger in your direction. The demanding bitch.
Part of you, instinctually, realizes that this is just the beginning - that you’re simply at the edge of the shore watching the tides recede while a devastating wave builds somewhere in the distance.
“What is it? Does it still hurt?” Astarion asks, breaking the silence, and you realize that no, it doesn’t. Not like before, at least.
You shake your head.
“Good. I’d wager that means this is working.” He smiles triumphantly, working the laces of his own clothes, and ridding himself of the final layers between you, revealing an intricate network of muscle beneath. For a man who’d supposedly been starved for the last two centuries, he certainly doesn’t look the part.
Astarion nudges your legs apart with his thigh, then settles between your knees, dragging the head of his cock between your folds. He hums in approval, admiring the sight as he coats himself in your slick. It practically drools out of you.
There’s no resistance when he dips himself into your entrance.
His eyes scan over your face, searching for any discomfort, but all he finds is need.
So, he presses in further.
“Shit, you -”
He hisses, sucking in a sharp breath as he bottoms out, then takes a moment, eyes pinched shut, collecting himself.
He slides out, just an inch or so, before plunging back in, buried as deeply as he can reach. It’s so damn easy, the sinfully wet mess you’ve left all over his cock allowing him to glide in and out, tilting his hips with each thrust.
The stretch of him is perfect, like you were made for this - made to take him. His length rubbing and dragging against your walls acts like a balm, relaxing your body as you swallow and grip him in scorching heat.
He grabs one of your thighs, pressing it into your chest - the new angle allowing him to sink even deeper into your core.
It isn’t long before you’re begging him for more, digging your heels into the curve of his back.
Astarion starts pounding into you - a new, brutal pace spurred on by your encouragement and the wet, filthy slap of his skin against yours. The sounds reverberate off the canvas of your tent, blending with your choked sobs. You just know your companions are going to have something to say about this in the morning, but you honestly can’t bring yourself to care.
The only thing that matters now is the man above you - his nails digging into the flesh of your ass, whispering how good you feel. How well you’re taking him, “Like you were made for this - for me.” His grunts are like music to your ears, drowning out all other thoughts as his chest vibrates against your own.
It’s all too much.
Your orgasm sneaks up on you before you have a chance to warn him, but he feels the way you flutter around his cock and acts on instinct - snaking his fingers between your bodies and rubbing your clit in quick circles.
You throw your head back with a cry, shaking beneath him, and grip him like a vice as you come. The force of it slams into you, hot and devastating, tightening every muscle within its wake. You wind your limbs tightly around the hard planes of Astarion’s body as he rolls his hips into you, slow and deep.
You can feel him twitching inside you, his rhythm suddenly stuttering with each thrust. Something tells you he’d come now, if you’d allow him.
But where?
'Where else?'
The very idea of him not spilling every drop he has inside of you disturbs you nearly to the point of panic, and with that, you finally understand what this damned succubus has been demanding of you this entire time.
“Astarion, please. I need you.”
“Where?” he asks, voice muffled, panting hot and open-mouthed against the swell of your shoulder.
“Inside,” you beg, “Please. Please - It’s alright.”
He shudders, surging up into you one last time with a strangled grunt. Holding onto your hips, he pulses within you, the warmth of his release filling you to the brim, until a thick white ring of come forms at the base of his length. You can’t help but clench around him, moving to match his previous pace and trying desperately to wring as much out of him as you can, until it begins to seep out onto the sheets beneath you.
It isn’t until he stills inside of you that you release your hold on him. The two of you take a minute to collect yourselves, waiting for your heart to settle and listening to Astarion’s ragged breaths.
He lifts his weight off of you with a grunt, settling back on his knees.
“That was - agh,” he shivers as he pulls out of you. You don’t even want to look at the mess.
“I’m going to have to burn these sheets, aren’t I?” you ask, sitting up on your shoulders.
He throws his head back with a genuine, hearty laugh, and cards his fingers through his dampened hair.
This is the most relaxed you think you’ve ever seen him - not a scowl line in sight. He rolls his shoulders, and sighs at the subsequent pop before turning his focus back on you.
“I’ll have you know,” Astarion muses, “I’ve done this more times than I can count— but this, my dear,” he chuckles, “This was one for the books.”
“So, was sleeping with me everything you could have possibly imagined?” It’s an obvious joke, given your tone. An offer to squash any chance of this happening again, should he wish to. An exit.
He hums playfully. “Well, next time I think I’d prefer the subtle influence of wine over a mind-altering aphrodisiac, if it's all the same to you.”
There’s a beat of silence.
Did he just offer to do this again? Well, not exactly, but -
“And how are you feeling?” Astarion asks.
Better, is the honest answer. Slightly confused and deeply embarrassed, but better.
The apologies you’ll have to make after the night’s over seem endless, both to him and to Shadowheart for all the trouble you caused. Not to mention the others, who’ve probably had the sound of your squealing burned into their memories forever. The idea of it is daunting.
“Because if you’re still reeling from any nasty, lingering effects,” he continues, “I’m sure I could be… persuaded to help again.”
Oh.
Hm.
“Well, now that you mention it…”
-
Tag List (sorry if I missed anyone! I only added you if you explicitly asked to be tagged): @daedriclys @captain039 @sushiumex @sugasweettea @marauders-moon @starlightelegy @ablxssm @the-lake-is-calling
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come on home
in which the only person who can comfort you after your breakup with spencer reid, is spencer reid
inspired by the song "summer's end" by the artist currently known as phoebe bridgers
wc 2857
warnings: gn!reader (correct me if im wrong), minor mommy issues, angst, happy ending
a/n: thank you to the person who requested this:) u r an angel and I listened to this song the whole time i wrote (if you haven't heard, listen!!) i sincerely hope you enjoy, i like this one a lot<3
She hung up on you.
Forty-seven minutes of being insulted and berated after you’d called her looking for comfort, and you put up with every single cruel word—just for your mother to hang up on you. And it’s exactly the kind of thing she’d do, so you shouldn’t be surprised. An ache, you’d expect—but it shouldn’t sting like this. You thought you knew better.
Now you’re in a ball on your couch, clutching your phone to your chest and crying. There’s no point hiding it. Your roommate is out with her girlfriend for the evening—which is too bad because even though you feel like being alone, you’re sure that’s the wrong call. Your other friends are out having fun tonight, too. They’d even invited you, but you turned them down. Look where that had gotten you. Obviously, your mother is not the person you’re about to run to for comfort, either.
You try to pretend, while you’re thinking of all these people who have ever cared for you, that Spencer Reid isn’t on your mind at all. You try to pretend like you don’t care that the person who loved you until you believed you actually deserved it is a contact going stale deep in the bowels of your text cache. With bleary eyes you scroll down, looking for your conversation where it gathers dust—the end of your relationship was a mutual decision, and you’re friendly, but you haven’t texted in a few weeks. Probably because every time the conversation starts to feel a little too easy, or the phone call lasts a little too long, that aching void in your chest gets worse and worse. Like pain in a phantom limb, you become acutely aware of what you do not have and how much it hurts.
So blame it on the tears, or the mind-muddling melodrama of your relationship with your mother, blame it on anything but the truth—when your thumb drops on that call button like the plunger on a syringe, you don’t regret it.
What you’re not expecting is for him to answer after the first ring.
“Hi,” you say with a snuffle before Spencer can get a word in. There’s a brief interlude, in which you pick at your nails, comfortable to just sit in silence if that’s what he wants. As long as he’s there.
“Hi.” Hearing his voice instantly melts a bit of the weight you hadn’t realized you were carrying. Another pause, for which you remain silent, because you can feel him formulating a question—and you’d like to hear him speak again. “...am I allowed to ask if you’re okay?”
Your lips purse and twist to the side, pained and comforted by how easily he can tell that you’re distraught. One word across a tinny connection, and he knows.
“No. Yes. I mean... I guess that’s why I called you. But you don’t have to ask me about it.” You sniff again and take a deep breath. “How was your day? What state are you in?”
“I’m in the district,” he answers after a moment, easing into a casualness that he likely doesn’t feel for your sake. Wind crunches through the speaker. He probably just got out of work. “My day was... it was good. I got to talk about my job to a bunch of elementary schoolers, which is always a confidence boost.”
You chuckle, still laying on your side on the couch and watching storm clouds gathering outside.
“Nice, nice. What else?”
“Let’s see... I forgot lunch, so I had three oranges, and they were actually pretty good. I reread Game of Thrones—I don’t know why I did that. I’m never going to like that book.”
“Masochist,” you smile. He laughs, and you hear the sound of a car door opening.
“Oh! I talked to my mom. Believe it or not, she says hi.”
A completely inadvertent snort constitutes your response. It’s not what you meant to do, and out of context it’s sort of mean, but you actually think it’s incredibly endearing that he still talks to his mother about you. He scrambles to explain himself.
“I swear, we barely talked about you this time. Mostly we talked about her new boyfriend Leonard.”
“No, no, that’s not... I’m sorry, I’m not laughing at you or your mom. That’s really sweet, actually. Tell her I say hi too.”
When he next speaks, you can hear the smile in his voice.
“I will.” Another long pause. You imagine him sitting in the parking lot at Quantico, keys vertical in the ignition of his old car and feeling the silence just as much as you are. He surprises you by not ending the conversation—instead he asks a question. It is concern, poorly disguised with nervous humor. Or maybe you just know him too well. “Do I get to find out what’s on your mind, or are you leaving me in suspense here?”
You bite the inside of your cheek.
“Um... well, actually, I just got off the phone with my mom, too. It didn’t go so well,” you laugh halfheartedly, “I know it was dumb to try and have an actual conversation with her, but... you know me. Always following blind optimism to the depths of hell.”
“Why’d you call your mom?” he asks, so gently it brings a fresh round of tears to your eyes. Still, you attempt to put a cheerful affect on your strained voice.
“Mm, you know. Just needed someone to talk to.”
Spencer’s knowing sigh does little to make you feel better.
“You know you can always talk to me, right? I know it’s... it’s different now, but... I care about you a lot. And, you know, I receive very few phone calls, so the line is pretty much always open.”
Your laugh quickly devolves into a cry.
“I appreciate that, but I can’t talk to you about everything.”
“Why not?” he pleads immediately, voice thin and desperate like it’s his most burning question. A million lies dance over the tip of your tongue. A million things that feel safer to say than the truth. But in the end, it comes out anyway—choked, and so quiet, but aloud nonetheless.
“Because I’m trying really hard to stop missing you so much.”
Another long beat of silence. The back of your throat feels dry and hollow—a cage for your hummingbird heart.
“If it hurts too much to talk to me, you don’t need to do that to yourself. But I also don’t want you to hurt yourself thinking you’re alone. You are... so important to me. I will always try to take care of you the best I can—whether that means staying away or being at your front door. If you ever need me, or even... vaguely want me, I will be there.”
Each word caves your resolve. Each syllable is a slap in the face to progress you’d been pretending to make. You can be strong—you've proven that over the past ten weeks. You can be stone-faced and slash at your heart until the scar tissue is thick and jagged, and eventually it won’t hurt anymore. But maybe, by letting someone tend to the wounds, they’ll heal a little nicer. A little kinder. Even if you can’t undo the damage, maybe one day you’ll be soft again.
“What if I vaguely want you right now?” you sniffle.
Finally, you hear the silver jingle of keys turning. The sputter and rumble of an old engine coming to life.
“Then I’m on my way.”
Twenty four minutes later, there’s a soft knock at your door.
After the call had ended, you’d wondered if you made it all up. Surely your ex-boyfriend wasn’t actually about to show up at your apartment. Someone you’ve grieved for can’t just come back—there are countless horror novels and movies based upon that very tenet. Does it matter if they ever actually died? How long is ten weeks, really? It feels like a lifetime.
You shuffle across the room, wiping under your eyes with your already damp sleeves, and undoing all the locks Spencer had conditioned you to start using. When the door cracks open, and you see Spencer standing there, windswept and concerned, for the first time in months, it hits you like a tidal wave. You are, beyond a shadow of a doubt, still just as in love with him as you ever were. The relief that floods your veins as he looks down at you with so much care in his eyes is like sinking into warm water. It’s a dead giveaway, and maybe it makes this whole thing a terrible idea, but you can’t seem to care very much. You open the door wider, and he enters, and he stands in your kitchen with his hands in his coat pocket as you shut the door and he’s perfect. It dawns on you that for the first time since the breakup, you feel safe. Like you don’t have to be a stone pillar anymore. This, of course, translates into even more tears, which you try to hide as you face away, re-locking the door.
“Sweetheart...” he sighs, because you can’t hide anything from him. Hearing the resonance of his voice so close to you once more is overwhelming. In an instant you’re rushing into his arms, and he accepts you without hesitation. You bury your teary face in the vetiver safety of his button-up and slip your arms under his coat, as if you could absorb his warmth and forever hide from the world that way. He pulls you even closer. It’s terrible and cruel how much he is exactly what you needed. “What’s wrong? What did she say?”
You shake your head and gasp a small sob.
Truthfully, you’re not really crying about the petty insults from your mother anymore. You’re back to square one, the reason you’d called your mother to begin with—you miss the man whose arms are currently wound around your shoulders.
His hand smooths over the back of your hair.
“Okay. That’s okay. We don’t have to talk about it.”
You stay like that—content even as you cry because being with him feels so much safer than being alone. It feels right—or perhaps it’s just familiar. You don’t know which is worse.
Spencer is rubbing soothing lines up and down your back as you cling to him, soaking him up in all his ephemeral, comforting glory. He surprises you by chuckling—it vibrates through his chest, buzzing against your ear.
“Nice Magritte print. I bet the person who bought that has fantastic taste.”
“Are you gonna ask for it back?” you mumble into the fabric of his suit jacket. He is, of course, referring to the painting you’d more or less stolen from his apartment seven months ago. You really don’t want him to take it home. It’s the most overt Spencer memorabilia you’d allowed yourself to keep in plain sight.
“No, baby. You can keep it.” The words are low, and kind, and they settle you some, but you can’t seem to get him close enough. “What can I do?” he whispers after a moment, helpless as you take a shuddering breath. “Can I make you tea? Have you eaten?”
“Will you just... stay for a little bit? I’ll—I promise I’ll stop crying.”
There is an unexpected lull where you thought you’d receive pretty immediate agreement, but before you can pull back and ask what’s wrong, he murmurs, “yeah. I can stay for a while. But you have to kick me out before it gets too late.”
You wonder if you’re imagining the double-entendre that seems to underline his words in bold red ink. Spencer is too smart to have not noticed a thing like that. You don’t mention it—it all boils down to the same unspoken idea.
Don’t let me stay, because I might not leave.
“I will,” you sniff, finally stepping back and wiping your own tears. It hurts to lose his touch, but at least you know he’s not going anywhere for the next few hours. This, as opposed to everything else lately, can be a beginning instead of an end.
At least, until he goes home.
Three and a half hours later, after tea, an impromptu dinner comprised mostly of cheese and crackers, and several vinyl changes on your record player (which served only as background noise for your long, ambling conversations), things are seeming to wind down to a natural stopping point. Which you hate. The whole time you’d had a dull ache in your chest because talking to him was easier than breathing and you knew it wouldn’t last. There had been one or two false bottoms already—the first when you’d yawned around nine, and the second when you’d gotten up to do your skincare and brush your teeth half an hour later. Even then he’d just leaned against the doorframe, watching your reflection above the sink as you talked for fifteen more minutes. Now you stand across from each other in the kitchen, plates restacked and everything in order. Of course he’d insisted on helping you clean up.
“I should go,” he says, with a soft sort of finality in his voice.
“Is your carriage turning into a pumpkin?” you tease gently, to hide how much you don’t want him to leave. He smiles—a small, weary thing—but genuinely and endlessly charmed by you.
“That among other things.”
“Would you—would you walk me to my room first?”
The hesitance is clear in his eyes and the way his lips part as if to say, ‘I don’t think that’s a good idea’, but you're sure he’s really going to leave in a moment and you’re also sure he won’t deny you this one small thing before he does.
“Okay.”
It’s a short, silent walk through the living room and down the hall to your bedroom door, but you can feel him trailing behind you the whole way. You stop in front of your open door, turning face to face with him.
“Thanks,” you murmur.
His lips pull into a melancholy smile.
“Anytime.”
There’s nothing left to do but wrap your arms around each other once more, tuck yourself into the you-sized space between his head and shoulder and hold on for as long as he’ll let you. The hug lingers for longer than is wise. Spencer adjusts his arms looped around your waist, pulling you closer, and you nuzzle against his neck, grateful that at least he seems as reluctant to let this end as you are.
But eventually, it relaxes. Your hold on each other loosens. His face is just inches from yours, and you get to study every plane and valley and line like you’d thought you never would again. It seems he’s doing the same—losing himself in the luxury of seeing you up close.
“Will you kiss me goodnight?” you whisper, unable to muster any self-consciousness though you know it’s a fool’s errand. Spencer strokes your waist.
“I can’t do that, honey.”
“Why not?”
His voice is just as quiet as yours. It falters slightly as he speaks, so gently, so patiently.
“Because we’re not together anymore.”
“Why not?”
Your feeble, desperate supplication sounds pitiable even to you. You’re not proud, but you can’t find it in yourself to be ashamed, either. All you want is an answer. But it’s like a child asking why the sky is blue, or the earth is round. There is a definitive explanation, but mostly, the adult will shrug, and say, that’s just how it is.
Spencer’s eyes squeeze shut. His head tilts down.
“We can’t do this again, sweetheart. You know why we’re not together.”
In theory—yes. You’d had so many conversations when you’d broken up. It had been a long, painful process, spanning multiple all-nighters at his kitchen table, nursing coffee and trying to convince each other and yourselves that it was the right choice. But it just feels like a horrible, horrible mistake. You feel desperate to explain this to him before he slips away again—the words come out flustered, inelegant as you cling to him.
“But I don’t think I’m getting better without you. I tried, I tried so hard to be good on my own, but everything is worse and harder and—and we weren’t sure about it then, and I don’t think it was the right choice, because I still really need you. Like, all the time. I’m—it’s not getting better without you. Nothing got better.”
He swallows, eyes darting between yours for an infinite second. You’re breathless and your heart is pounding after your confession—you can feel your eyes stinging with the few tears that managed to escape as you spoke.
“Everything is worse,” he agrees shakily. “Everything. I’m—I’m getting disciplinary infractions from Hotch like I’m a child because I can’t focus on anything. Game of Thrones is the most complex literature I can comprehend right now. I had to use a calculator the other day.”
You want to laugh, but nothing is funny until he’s yours again.
“Then come back. Please come back, Spencer.”
Finally, he leans closer, until your heads are pressed together, and his nose bumps yours, feather light. You're dizzy. You exhale. He inhales.
“I don’t think I knew how to leave in the first place.”
When he kisses you, it feels like home.
#spencer reid#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x fem!reader#spencer reid x self insert#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid fic#spencer reid angst#spencer reid fluff#criminal minds x reader#criminal minds imagine#criminal minds
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adah … reader sliding toji her panties during a visit … him jerking off with them in his cell … (i know realistically it wouldn’t work bc regulations blah blah blah guards would see it and all BUT but indulge me for a sec) this man would go FERAL FOR THEM ((satosugu would try to steal them deprived freaks))
prison bf toji series linked here <3
content: jerking off, mentions of violence, panty kink .. ? if that’s not a thing ignore that tag
you don’t know what had gotten into you today, truly.
the idea had popped into your head as you were getting dressed, a little voice in the back of your brain directing your thoughts toward the maxi skirt you’d bought on an outing last weekend.
the fabric was opaque, impossibly silky. ebbing and flowing along the dips of your body all the way down to your ankles. tight enough to show off your figure but not enough to restrict your movements. easy to maneuver in without being too obvious.
that’s precisely why you have no issues wiggling your panties off each hip under one of the prison’s many visitor tables, letting the black lace slip over your knees and around your ankles.
you let one foot slip out of the garment, lifting your leg to brush against toji’s calf slowly.
huh?
he whispers, amused at what he thinks is a little game of footsie. the inmate palms at the meat of your calf lovingly, traveling down down down until calloused fingers close around your ankle.
oh.
he’s quiet when he says it, eyes blown wide with a mix of shock and arousal. you barely hear him over the bustle of the visitor hall, the small smile gracing his face being your only indication of what he’s about to do.
toji delicately lifts the fabric from around your leg, scanning the perimeter to make sure no one’s looking. emerald eyes bore into yours as your boyfriend balls the garment up in his fist, bringing his closed hand up to his mouth.
and then he kisses it. kisses your panties through the gaps in his fingers without ever looking away, sending a lightning bolt of arousal straight to the deepest pit of your stomach.
you swear you see him stuff the fabric down the front of his pants before he heads back.
˚ ✧ ───
your little gift doesn’t last a chance in the shitty hiding place he picked, haphazardly thrown under the swell of his pillow while he eats lunch in the mess hall. all toji knows is that they were in his cell mates’ greedy little paws by the late afternoon, the two insufferable men huddled around the item like schoolgirls reading a magazine.
“how the fuck did you get these past customs?” geto asks in disbelief, turning the fabric over in the dim light. gojo runs a lithe finger over the lace border in silent interest.
“didn’t get it in the mail dumbass,” your boyfriend sneers, snatching the black lace from both men with a huff.
“so y’r broad snuck them to you, huh?” gojo teases, head hanging off the edge of the bunk with boredom.
toji couldn’t stomp the two young men half to death like he usually would, disappointing as that was. he did only just get visitation rights back again after his last infraction.
the last time he’d beat geto’s face in was after the younger man had got his hands on a picture of you, earning toji 2 months in solitary confinement.
he really did think he was starting to go crazy, spending 22 hours a day in that padded room with nothing but his thoughts to keep him company. being fed through a tray slot in the wall like a fucking zoo animal.
more time in solitary meant less time with you. less time with the picture of you he tacked to the underside of the top bunk with a wad of gum, palming himself slowly as he takes in the sight of your sweet little smile he knows all too well.
less time with the soft clutch of your panties caressing the underside of his dick, catching milky ropes of cum as he finishes all over his stomach on the slab of metal this place calls a bed.
and a whole lot less time of getting to rut into you under the dim light of a spare storage closet, hours after dark. hand closed right around your lips as he takes you over and over and over.
so if toji had to bite his tongue till he drew blood and settle for jerking his dick raw as a distraction, then so be it. at least your little present would keep him good company till’ your next visit.
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#prison bf! toji#prison bf!toji#toji x reader#toji x reader smut#toji x fem reader#fushiguro toji x reader#jjk toji#toji headcanons#jujutsu kaisen toji#toji zenin#toji imagine#toji fushiguro#fushiguro toji#zenin toji#jujutsu toji#toji#toji drabbles#toji smut
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new perspective | joel miller
Summary | the summed wedged between finishing your undergraduate degree and starting on your graduate programme just got a lot better when Joel Miller turns out to feel exactly the same about you as you do to him.
Pairing | dbf!Joel Miller x F!Reader
Word Count | 3.7k
Warnings | Explicit Smut. dbf!Joel makes his return on my blog, mentions of food and alcohol, Joel being competent and fixing stuff, the classic dbf trop of a cookout, sex while your parents are around, oral sex (f), masturbation (m), unprotected PiV, talk of contraception, dirty talk, praise kink, THE RETURN OF MIRROR SEX BY THETRIUMPHANTPANDA, no outbreak au, no use of Y/N.
Authors Note | I missed dad's best friend Joel so I wrote him :) I hope you like him. This is a standalone but I won't rule out adding more in this universe if y'all like it. I have to shoutout @hellishjoel for talking me through how to make a moodboard so beautifully, thank you honey! If you like this, consider reblogging/commenting/leaving asks for me - it really helps!
Please follow @thetriumphantpandanotifs for my writing updates.
Main Masterlist | Ko-Fi
The incessant dripping of the kitchen tap is driving you insane. You’d come back to Texas for the summer to relax. Hoping to leave behind shoddy workmanship that your landlord refused to fix because he would do it when you moved out, ready for the next lot of college kids to come in. If your dad had mentioned the dripping kitchen tap, the creaky floorboards on the stairs and the issue with water pressure that meant showering took longer than necessary, maybe you’d have stayed where you were.
“Someone’s comin’ to take a look at that later,” He’d said on his way out to work that morning, head tilting towards the kitchen, “Should be here after lunch.”
You’d waved him off, barely looking up from the book you were reading, legs outstretched on the couch with your notepad and pen resting on the arm. Wasn’t much of a summer when you were going straight from your undergraduate degree into a graduate programme.
As the day moved on, the heat got worse. Glasses of ice water turning lukewarm before you had a chance to cool down. The patio door open, hoping for a breeze every now and then, but finding no reprieve. The ice pop doesn’t even help that much, melting too quickly before you had a chance to enjoy it.
It’s pushing 2pm when there’s a knock at the door. Reading material and notepad pushed onto the floor, trash TV on in the background as you try not to sweat to death. It takes you a minute to register the noise, so long that whoever it is here to look at the tap knocks again.
You pull open the door, wincing when the heat of the sun being let in sinks across your skin. The change in light means it’s a few seconds before your eyes adjust to who it is standing in front of you. Joel Miller.
It’s been a while since you’ve seen him. He’s been busy, according to your dad, building his business with Tommy. Lots of out of town trips now Sarah is grown and away to college for her first year - schedules not quite lining up for you to see him when you come home, but God are you glad you have the chance now. He’s older now, obviously, greying a little. His hair has grown too, curls flopping onto his forehead and around his ears. He looks broader now than he did - the physical labour obviously working in his favour - you can see the arms of his t-shirt straining around the muscles there, but as you let your eyes trail down a little, you’re pleased to see that he clearly still enjoys his barbecue and beer.
“Y’gonna let me in, sweetheart?” He asks and that Southern drawl hasn’t changed either, low and slow, tickling just the right parts of your brain as they always had.
You’d thought whatever it was that you felt for him was just some silly schoolgirl crush, but the longer he hung around, the older he got, the more you realised he wasn’t something you’d grow out of liking. Not even the fair amount of fooling around at college had helped - boys that had no idea what they were doing, who couldn’t take instruction to save their lives. Whenever they’d leave, you’d lie there, sheets pulled up under you chin, and think, Joel Miller would never leave me like that - wet, wanting and unsatisfied.
“Sorry,” You mumble, taking a side step to let him in, “Here to fix the tap, right?”
“That’s right,” He replies, walking in and straight to the kitchen - he spends more of his time here than you do now, “Nice t’see you back for a while.”
You close the door, stopping off to lean over the couch and grab your half-empty water glass before following behind him to the kitchen.
“Weird to be back, honestly,” You muse, pulling a fresh glass out of the cupboard, “Didn’t think this place would ever change much, but it feels different.”
“Probably you that’s changed,” He talks as he opens the toolbox he’s bought with him, “Got a different perspective on things now you live in the big city.”
“You’re probably right,” You agree, filling the glasses with ice and water, sipping from one and putting the other near to where Joel is working, “And the fact no-one else left I suppose - did you know Becca from my year at school has had two kids since I’ve been away?”
Joel let’s out a low whistle as he uses some tool to tighten something on the tap, sighing when it doesn’t stop the leaking, “Two kids at your age?” He asks, “I could barely deal with Sarah, I don’t know how folks do it.”
“Yeah, me neither,” You shrug, leaning against the kitchen counter, “I can barely keep myself alive.”
He turns his head, his brown eyes roving you up and down, is he…? Is he checking you out? He lets out a little cough and reaches for his water, taking two deep drinks of it before he turns back to the job at hand, sinking to his knees on the floor to open the cupboard under the sink. He’s got his head inside it when he speaks again.
“I don’t know,” He muses, “You look pretty alive to me.”
“Thanks,” you chuckle, “Best compliment I’ve ever received.”
You can hear him laugh a little from under the sink, the noise punctuated with the sounds of him gently hammering at something.
“Can you pass me the screwdriver down?” He asks, an arm extending out towards you as you rifle through his toolbox, setting the tool in his hand when you find it.
It doesn’t take him much longer to fix whatever was wrong, the dripping from the faucet stopping, giving you the sweet relief of silence, save for him groaning as he stands from his knees.
“Maybe time to retire, old man?” You offer with a smirk as he shoves the tools back into the box.
“Careful,” He warns, but his voice is light and you know he’s teasing, “I’m in the prime of my life.”
“Whatever you say.”
“I’m all done,” He says a few moments later once he’s cleaned up, “Tell your dad I’ll be back sometime in the week to look at the shower.”
You follow him back to the door, like a lost puppy on his heel, wanting to spend as much time as possible in his company before he leaves.
“Thanks for coming,” You say when he opens the door, “The dripping was driving me wild.”
“No problem sweetheart, my pleasure,” He smiles, “Anythin’ else you let your dad know he can call me, okay?” You nod in response, about to close the door, “It’s real good to see you again.”
“You too, Joel.”
It’s been just over a week since Joel had fixed the tap. He’d been back and forth to tinker with the other issues throughout the house, talking to you here and there, but tonight is the first time he’ll be here without the pretence of needing to fix something. It’s always the same in Southern households in the summer - each household in a group of friends taking turns to host some form of dinner for everyone else, eating together in the name of community.
There’s a table full of food - your mother had made enough side dishes to feed the five thousand, potato salad, fresh bread and enough green salad that you’d all be eating it for days afterwards. The fridge stocked full of beer and wine and the crowning glory of a cheesecake you’d slaved over for hours yesterday.
Joel is here, along with Tommy, and your neighbours on both sides too. Your mom and dad had invited friends from work, but just like you’d expected, none of your friends from before you left were able to make it - prior commitments of children, husbands and work.
It’s a low-key affair, a table full of grilled meat and sides and plenty of alcohol, but it’s the alcohol that’s made this difficult for you. With Joel sitting right next you, smelling of cologne and entirely unaware that you’re creaming in your panties about wanting him to fuck you.
You’d not been subtle today either - picking the shortest dress you own, bending over to pick something up in front of him, laughing at his jokes and pressing against him at the table whenever he says something interesting or funny - you want him to know that you want him, you want him to know that he’s all you’ve been able to think about since he showed up on the porch last week.
And you think he does. When you rest a hand on his knee under the table after a particularly funny story about his apprentice and a drill on the worksite, he gives you a pointed look, but doesn’t brush your hand away, and when you announce to the table that you need to use the bathroom and cool down a little, you’re halfway up the stairs when you hear his footsteps following you - almost hunting you into the bathroom and closing the door.
“Don’t think I don’t know what you’re doin’, sugar.”
Got him.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Joel.” You smirk, turning around to lean against the sink as the bathroom door closes with a snick.
“Though you were a smart city girl now,” He muses, leaning his back against the door - you don’t miss his hand turning the lock, “You know exactly what I’m talkin’ about.”
“Maybe you should explain it to me,” You say, looking up at him through your lashes, “I’d hate for us to have crossed wires.”
He shakes his head, but you can see the twitch of his mouth upwards, “Firstly, this little number,” His hand waves at your dress, barely short enough to cover your ass, “And the way you’ve been bendin’ over all night right when I happen to be lookin’, sittin’ right next to me, the way you’re puttin’ your hands on my leg whenever you laugh?” You shrug in response, “Definitely not the sweet girl I remember before you left.”
“Things change,” You offer, “New perspectives and all that.”
“And those new perspectives make you wanna fuck this old man?” He asks, eyebrow raised.
“Is that such a crime?”
“College boys ain’t doin’ it for you?”
“No.” You reply simply, trying to keep your grin from blooming as he starts stepping towards you until you can feel the heat from his body.
He’s looming over you, hands on either side of your body, caging you between his body and the sink. You look up, find his face close to yours and waste no time in pressing up onto your tiptoes to kiss him.
It’s soft. Softer than you’d imagined from him - his mouth moving slowly against your lips as he presses his body flush to yours. You open your mouth against his a little, let your tongue trail over his bottom lip, hands reaching up to grip onto his t-shirt as his tongue meets yours.
You think you could stay like that forever, tasting him, but he pulls away, hands gripping your hips through the material of your dress to turn you around. There’s a brief moment where he presses himself against you, letting you feel the hardening of his cock against your ass, but then he’s gone, dropped to his knees behind you, tearing your panties down your legs to pool at your ankles.
Joel brings his palms to the naked skin of your ass, squeezing before he pulls gently, spreading you open with a low whistle from his mouth.
“Don’t tell me you’re this wet from teasing me, sugar.” He says, leaning forward to press his mouth to the top of your spine.
You’re about to respond when you feel one of his hands drop and then brush against the slick folds of your cunt, all you can do is watch yourself in the mirror as you tip your head forward and wait for what’s coming.
You feel him run his fingers back down before one of them dips lower, dangerously close to your fluttering hole that’s begging to be filled - and he knows it.
“She’s desperate, huh?” He coos behind you, “Practically beggin’ for someone to fill her up, ain’t she?”
“Please, Joel?” You breathe out, looking at yourself in the mirror, “I need it.”
“What do you need?” He asks with a tender squeeze of his other palm to your ass, “Huh? You tell me sugar and I’ll give it to you.”
“Your m-mouth,” You stutter out, “Or your f-fingers, anything Joel, please.”
“Like this?” He asks, and you’re about to ask what he means when you feel the warmth of his tongue lapping at you.
He’s tasting you, lapping at your core where you’re seeping slick just for him, his fingers trailing up, finding that bud of nerves, gently circling as he drinks from you.
“Ohhhhhh,” You sigh out in relief, taking yourself in when you look at your reflection, hair a little mused, skin slick with sweat already, “Just like that.”
You can feel his tongue pressing inside a little as his finger finds a rhythm of short gentle swipes across your clit - he’s got your knees wobbling already, making you flatten your palms on the marble sink to keep yourself upright.
“You gotta be quiet, okay?” He says, pulling his mouth off you to speak, dragging his fingers from your clit, “You make too much noise, I’ll have to stop.”
You hum in agreement, waiting to see what his next move is, which is to sink of of his thick fingers right inside your cunt and to lean forward underneath you enough so his tongue is moving against your clit. You have to bite down on your bottom lip to stop yourself from crying out - if there’s one thing college boys don’t do, it’s this.
You’re not sure how long he stays down there, lapping at your clit and slowly moving that finger inside you, but you know you’d have stayed there all night if you could, teetering just on the edge until he felt like finishing you off.
There’s a whine that leaves your mouth when his lips leave you - the finger that was inside you also gone, but he swaps them again - soaked fingers rubbing at your clit whilst he literally sucks the wet from your cunt, like a man who has gone without water for months. The hand that he’s hand pressed to your ass cheek is gone too - you can hear him fumbling with his belt and the movement of material somewhere along the line too, then, he’s groaning into your cunt.
You turn your head a little, but you can’t see him well enough to confirm what you think he’s doing - lapping at your cunt and circling your clit whilst he’s fisting his own cock.
“Are y-you-” You choke out, trying to keep your moans quiet as you feel the coil tightening in your tummy, “Are you touching yourself?”
Joel’s fingers continues its movement across your clit but his mouth leaves you, “Course I am,” He confesses, “Couldn’t help myself, sugar.”
“Just-” You trail off, a small, quiet moan slipping through the cracks of your resolve, “Put it inside me Joel.”
“Not yet,” He says, “Gotta make you cum first.”
“M’close,” You breathe out, pushing your hips back a little to get him to go back to what he was doing before, “Please Joel, I wanna cum.”
“Go on then, baby,” He coos, tongue back to licking at your wet hole, “You can let go.”
You feel your cunt pull tight and your knees buckle and your teeth bite down onto your bottom lip hard enough to draw blood as his fingers expertly push you over the edge. You can feel your walls clenching around nothing, begging for him to slip himself inside you so you have something to clench around as the hot furl of pleasure drifts like electric across your skin.
“Good girl,” You can hear him murmuring behind you, “So good bein’ so quiet like that.”
You’ve barely got time to recover before he’s standing up and pressing into you from behind, his lips wet and hot across the skin of your shoulder, a trail of wet being left from the drag of his beard where your slick has gathered.
“I don’t have anything on me,” He breathes into your ear, teeth nipping at your earlobe, “You got anything?”
You shake your head, “I’m clean though, I promise,” You speak softly, feeling him press his cock through your folds, “And I’m on the pill.”
He’s dragging his cock back through your folds, letting the head of it nudge slightly at your entrance, “You let anyone else fuck you bare before?” His hot breath asks into your ear.
“N-no,” You confess, “Only you.”
You can feel him press himself forward a little bit, feeding the tip of his cock into your cunt. There’s no doubt he’s big, bigger than you’re used to, but there’s no ache, not even when he pressed his hips further forward until you can feel his skin against yours and he’s buried fully inside you.
“Jesus,” He chokes out, “Fuckin’ Christ you feel good.”
Joel brings a hand up to rest against your throat, but it’s only to guide your eyeline to the mirror in front of you. He’s crowding behind you, hot and heavy against your back as he slowly starts to move, dragging his cock from your cunt and back in, chuckling against the skin of your cheek when you smile and giggle as the tip of him nudges at the very depths of you.
“You look good like this.” He whispers.
“We look good like this.” You counter, struggling to breathe a little as he picks the pace up, hips hitting into the meat of your ass on every thrust.
“We do,” He smiles, dragging himself off you a little to rest his hand on the back of your neck instead, “You like watching yourself get fucked, baby?”
You can’t speak anymore, the angle of his cock brushing against something inside of you which has you struggling to keep yourself quiet, so you just nod your head and let him press you further down into the counter, holding you still with his firm hand on your neck as he really starts to fuck you now.
You’re glad you can hear the music from the garden from here - means your dad has it turned up loud enough that no-one would be able to hear the squelch of your pussy on every thrust or the sound of your skin slapping together as Joel speeds up. It feels too good, you feel too full and you can feel that tightening coil again, feel the clenching of your cunt around his cock.
Looking into the mirror, you can see he’s in a similar state to you, his eyes angled down to watch his cock disappear into the heat of your cunt each time, sweat gathering along his brow. He sounds good too - small grunts on every thrust and a suck of breath whenever you constrict around him.
“One more, baby,” He urges, “Want to feel you cum on my cock, okay?”
He shifts his position a little so he’s fucking up into you - head of his cock pounding against that spot inside you that only you’d been able to find until now. It makes your legs shake and you have to bite down on your fist when he makes you cum again to stop yourself from crying out - tears springing at the corner of your eyes, threatening to spill as he talks you through it, tells you how pretty you look and how good you’re being for him.
“M’gonna cum baby,” He warns from behind you, “Where d’ya want it?”
You have no sense in your head anymore, he’s fucked it from you thoroughly, so you say the first thing that comes to mind - beg him to cum inside you, to fill you up. It’s safe, of course it would be, but you’re glad that somewhere in the haze of it all, he’s got more sense than you, pulling himself out of your cunt at just the last second, resting it against your ass as he spills across the skin of your lower back with a growl of your name on his mouth.
There’s silence as the two of you suck in breath to your lungs, letting your senses come back to you. Joel is quiet as he steps back and pulls his jeans back up to dress himself. He uses some tissue to clean you up, inspecting the hem of your dress for any stains he might have left before he’s dragging your panties back up your legs.
You have a try and fixing your hair, wetting your fingers from the sink to try and tame the flyaways, wondering if he’s going to walk away and leave you, but he doesn’t, he just stands behind you and waits for you to finish.
“I hope that was okay?” He offers sheepishly, rubbing at the back of his neck when you’re done.
“I asked for it,” You smile at him, “It was fine Joel.”
“Only fine?” He asks with a raised eyebrow.
You chuckle and slap him playfully on his arm, “Best I've ever had,” You offer, “Happy now?”
“Ecstatic,” He chuckles, moving to unlock the bathroom door before he turns back to you, “We don’t tell anyone about this, okay?”
You make a sign of a cross above your heart, “Not a soul.”
#Joel Miller x reader#Joel Miller x you#Joel Miller x female reader#Joel Miller x f!reader#Joel Miller smut#Joel Miller#Joel Miller fic#Joel Miller fanfic#Joel Miller fanfiction#the last of us#the last of us hbo#tlou#tlou hbo#the last of us smut#tlou smut#tlou fic#tlou fanfic#tlou fanfiction#the last of us fic#the last of us fanfic#the last of us fanfiction#Joel Miller Pedro pascal#Pedro Pascal#Joel Miller tlou#Joel tlou#Joel Miller the last of us#Joel the last of us#dbf!joel#dad's best friend#dbf joel miller
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all that i did to try to undo it
engen!reader... platonic ingrid & reader + platonic mapi & reader
r lives with her sister, but their relationship is rather rocky. can they fix it before it's broken beyond repair?
angst. pretty much just angst. r is not mentally well. proceed with caution.
–-----
Moving from Norway to Spain wasn’t your idea. It seemed that your parents had had quite enough of you. You knew you could have been better behaved, but you hadn’t realized they were so frustrated that they were willing to send you away. Not until it was too late.
It was your friends, back in Norway, that were the issue. They were why you snuck out and drank and cut school and generally broke all the rules that had been set for you. And this was why, when you arrived in Spain, it all… stopped. Mostly because you barely spoke Spanish and had no friends. Also because Ingrid had adopted a rather tough love attitude with you. She was strict and cold and you knew that she wouldn’t tolerate any missteps. And honestly, you didn’t know where you’d go if Ingrid decided she didn’t want you around anymore. Not that you were sure she really did in the first place; you were pretty convinced that she was doing this as a favor to your parents. She didn’t want you here, and you weren’t going to push her to do something about that.
Unbeknownst to you, Ingrid did want you there. It had been her idea for you to come to Spain in the first place. Your parents were at a loss with what to do with you, and Ingrid was tired of hearing how frustrated they were with you when she knew you were just trying to get their attention. She decided she could probably do a better job, simply by just paying attention. And so she did. She moved you in, she got on your ass about your responsibilities and your future, and you hadn’t yet put a toe out of line. Your sister was determined that you assimilate, thinking it would make it easier for you, so she only allowed you to speak Spanish in the home. She had Mapi read over your essays, and help with your grammar. She drove you to school everyday, and made you all eat dinner together as a family every night. It seemed to be working. You were quiet, but behaved. Ingrid was pretty convinced she’d done a good job, and solved the issue. You were a teen, and she figured you didn’t need her trying to hangout with you all the time.
So, while Ingrid paid attention to your school, she didn’t pay much attention to you. She didn’t know you didn’t have any friends at your school, or that a lot of the kids were pretty cruel to you. She didn’t know school had turned into an entire nightmare, and that you had to push through an insane amount of anxiety just to walk through the front doors every morning. She didn’t know that you were behaving because you were scared of her kicking you out. She didn’t know you were desperately sad and homesick, not even allowed to speak your language in your own home with her. She didn’t know that all you wanted some days was for her to just pull you into a hug, and tell you she was proud of you. That she loved you.
Why would she? Your parents clearly didn’t. Ingrid had no reason to either.
Mapi had some reservations about the way Ingrid was with you. It was a complete 180 from the Norwegian’s normal demeanor. Ingrid was smiley and warm and silly with the younger girls on the team, and stern and harsh with you. Mapi noticed the way you watched your sister with her teammates, face full of jealousy. As time went on, though, and you didn’t cause trouble, Ingrid became more and more sure that her approach was the right one. Mapi still wasn’t as convinced. She wasn’t quite sure it was her place to say anything, though, so she kept a watchful eye on everything, and made sure to make you feel like their home was yours too.
You didn’t quite know what to make of Mapi, honestly. She was clearly infatuated with your sister. And she was always so kind to you. Mapi made you coffee every morning, made sure to buy all your favorite foods at the store, and she reminded you, repeatedly, that if you ever wanted to talk, about anything, she was around. But Mapi was Ingrid’s. Not yours. If Ingrid was so reluctant to show you any affection, you shouldn’t seek it out from her girlfriend.
You were quietly miserable. Ingrid thought you were okay, finally mellowing out. Mapi was caught somewhere in the middle, seeing both the side of yourself you hid from your sister, and the neutral façade you put on in front of her.
For you, things couldn’t get much worse. Or at least, you didn’t think so.
------
It had been a while since you’d gotten in a fight. You’d forgotten how good it felt to punch someone in the face who very much had it coming.
It was your birthday. You would have forgotten, too, if a few of your old friends hadn’t texted you. Ingrid had forgotten. You’d woken up to her knocking on your door like she always did. She was focused on the important training session ahead, and barely spoke to you on the way to school. She’d forgotten your birthday, and you thought that it hadn’t bothered you. Until the idiotic group of boys was following you down the hallway, saying awful things. Until you’d snapped back at them in a way you never did, and until they began throwing punches. And you didn’t run. You turned and you fought and you let your anger and your hurt out for the first time in months. For the first time since you left Norway.
There was an odd sense of calm that washed over you, waiting in the dean’s office for your sister to arrive. You couldn’t bring yourself to care, in that moment, what she would think. Your hands hurt, your face hurt, and you’d finally stood up for yourself to the awful boys that wouldn’t leave you alone.
When Ingrid walked into the office, though, an absolutely livid expression on her face, you realized you did care. Very much. You had been waiting on the dean, and although he was a scary man, you would have rather faced him at that moment.
“What the fuck were you thinking?” Ingrid hissed, grabbing your face in her hands and inspecting your wounds.
“Ing,”
“Do not. I cannot believe you. I don’t want to hear your excuses or your explanations. You are going to apologize to the dean, take your punishment, and we are going to go home. I’ll deal with you there. Understand?”
You lowered your head, nodding. She took the seat on your other side, still visibly angry, though she softened for just a second as she looked closely at your hand.
“Is anything broken?” She asked quietly. Your eyes flooded with tears at the question, everything inside of you screaming to lean into her arms. She was angry, you thought. She was angry, and she wouldn’t want to hug you right now.
“I don’t think so.” You mumbled instead.
“Good. María will patch you up when we get home.” Her tone was cold again, and you began to zone out. The dean walked in, spewing a long lecture. He didn’t tell Ingrid that you hadn’t swung first, or that the boys had been bothering you for weeks. He didn’t tell Ingrid what they called you, or that it was three 18 year old boys against an 18 year old girl. He just said that the school didn’t tolerate fighting, and that you would be suspended for a week.
The worst part was that Ingrid didn’t even ask what happened. Not in the office, not in the car, not when you both got home. You used to get into fights all the time, back in Norway. She thought this was more of the same from you. Your sister stormed off to call your mom the minute you were in the house, leaving you standing in the entry hall in front of Mapi, eyes fixed on the ground.
Mapi’s hand was gentle when it rested on your back, gently guiding you up the stairs and into the couple’s bathroom. She sat you on the counter like you were a little kid, and pulled out the first aid kit. Only then did you raise your head and look at her. You thought she would be mad, but she only looked concerned.
“She hates me.” You said it before you could stop yourself, and your voice shook over every syllable. Mapi’s face melted, and she shook her head insistently, carefully wiping a tear off your face.
“No, nena. She’s upset, but she loves you very much.” Mapi seemed convinced. She loved your sister, after all. And though you didn’t know it, Mapi had been a witness to your sister worrying over you for 2 years now.
There was no use arguing, so you stopped talking again, and Mapi got back to cleaning your face up. She asked you a couple questions in English about things that hurt and didn’t hurt, and you responded in English. Mapi had moved on to cleaning the cuts on your knuckles when Ingrid appeared.
“Can you bend your fingers?” Mapi asked.
“Yeah, it’s a little sore, but I can bend them.” You replied.
“Español.” Ingrid scolded. You nodded, correcting yourself quickly, now trying to stifle the flow of tears flowing from your eyes.
“How are you feeling?” Ingrid asked, stepping in closer to study you closely.
“Okay. Hurts a bit but I’m fine.” You said softly.
“Do you promise it just hurts a bit?” Ingrid asked.
“Yes.” It wasn’t a lie. Your body didn’t hurt that bad. You hurt though. Every inch of you ached with a deep sadness, a deep loneliness. But that wasn’t what Ingrid had asked.
“We have a dinner tonight, a team dinner. Will you be okay here if we go?”
A little bit of you shattered, then. Maybe you’d been hoping that Ingrid had remembered your birthday, had been planning a fun dinner or something. Clearly not.
“Yeah. I’ll get a head start on my homework.” You managed, biting down hard on your lip to stop yourself from crying. Ingrid nodded, satisfied, but Mapi didn’t look away from you.
“Are you sure? You look a bit upset, nena. We can stay if you need us.”
You shook your head harshly. “No, I’m fine. Promise.”
You were very far from fine. You needed to be alone, though, if you were going to feel every complicated emotion raging through you.
------
“Ingrid,” Mapi said suddenly, about halfway into their drive to the restaurant. Ingrid hummed in response, looking over at her girlfriend from the passenger seat. “Your sister said something today. And it seemed like she really, really believed it. I think you need to be a little easier on her, amor. She’s just a kid.”
“What did she say?” Ingrid wondered, head stuck on that comment.
Mapi hesitated, well aware of how hard this might hit Ingrid. “She said you hated her. She was pretty convinced, Ingrid. How mad were you at the school?”
Ingrid sighed roughly, running an exhausted hand over her face. “Fuck. She’s always been dramatic, I forget that she’s just… sensitive sometimes. I was pretty harsh.” She admitted.
“Amor, I know you think this strict approach is working, but I don’t know. She seems so sad sometimes. She’s just a kid, and she’s doing her best. I think she needs you to be a bit… softer with her.” Mapi suggested, finally voicing the thoughts that had been plaguing her for weeks, if not months.
Ingrid was quiet for a while. “Maybe. I don’t know, I thought it was working, but then today happened. I don’t know what to do.”
“Why don’t you just… talk to her? What was the fight even about?” Mapi asked.
Ingrid didn’t respond, her frustration with herself quickly replacing her frustration with you.
“You didn’t ask?” Mapi sighed.
“No, but the dean didn’t say either.” Ingrid defended halfheartedly.
“That probably isn’t a good thing mi amor. We’ll talk to her when we get home. Figure out what’s going on.” Mapi declared.
“We?” Ingrid asked quietly, a small smile tugging at her lips.
“We.” Mapi affirmed, looking cautiously at her girlfriend. “Is that okay?”
“More than okay.” Ingrid assured her. “I think she might need both of us.”
It was clearer, now, to Ingrid. Suddenly, and very painfully. That she’d gone about this wrong. The extent of the damage that had been done was not yet to be realized, though.
--------
The silence that echoed through the house was what got you. Today, on your 18th birthday, you sat alone at the kitchen table, tears falling freely from your eyes. They stung the cuts in on your face, but you couldn’t find it within yourself to care. It felt like wherever you went, you messed up. Wherever you went, you weren’t wanted. When you’d come to Norway, you’d had hope that maybe things would be different. Maybe Ingrid would treat you differently than your parents. She had, but you still didn’t feel loved. It felt like there was something fundamentally wrong with you that drove everyone away. You just wanted to make it better, and yet, at the same time, you felt so incredibly hopeless. Like there was nothing in the world you could do to make your family love you. You supposed it was your fault; you’d been acting out for years. Everyone was bound to get tired of you. You didn’t want to be like that, you just didn’t know what else to do. The age gap to your siblings was huge, your parents were tired of being parents, and no one had any time for you. Or the desire to make time. You’d done the only thing you could think of at the time to get their attention, and it had only made things worse. You had only made things worse.
And still, a part of you was angry. Furious. Did you have to be perfect? Did you have to make no mistakes? Shouldn’t they love you regardless of all that? There was no consistency in your brain; sometimes it all felt like your fault, and other times it felt like there wasn’t anything you could do right.
You felt the inexplicable urge to apologize. Really apologize, really explain. Maybe they could forgive you. Maybe Ingrid could forgive you, maybe you could get her to understand. You didn’t think you could make it through an entire apology, though, not verbally, not face to face with your intense sister. So you got out a piece of paper, and began writing.
Ingrid,
I’m sorry. I’m sorry you got stuck with me, and I’m sorry I haven’t been good enough. I’ve tried, I promise I have. Sometimes I feel like it isn’t possible for me to meet your standards, but I still try.
I’m sorry about the fight today. They came at me, I swear. These three boys have been bothering me since I've arrived, and they say horrible things to me, and I just snapped. I should have just kept quiet, and they never would have started the fight, and I’m sorry I didn’t do that.
I’m sorry I’m always home and bothering you and Mapi. I’m sorry I haven’t made any friends here, and I’m sorry my spanish isn’t perfect. I’m sorry I'm so miserable. I don’t know why I can’t just be happy, but I can’t. I want to be. I really do. It just feels like you’re always mad at me. I feel like such an awful person no matter what I do. Mom and Dad didn’t want me. And I don’t think you want me. I don’t think I want me either, sometimes.
I’m trying to like it here, but it’s so different. I miss Mom and Dad, even though I know they don’t miss me. I miss my home and I miss Norway. I miss my friends. I didn’t really feel like I belonged there, but at least it was familiar.
I think I’m mad at you, too. You’re my sister, Ingrid. Do you always have to be so harsh with me? I think I’d be happier, if you seemed happier that I was here.
You forgot my birthday. Mom and Dad didn’t remember either. I turned 18 today. I turned 18 today, and you and Mapi went to dinner without me. I made a sandwich and ate it by myself in the kitchen. I’ve never felt so worthless. I don’t know what to do. I don’t know how to fix this. I just want you all to love me again. I want to love myself again. I think I’d do anything, to feel like I have a family again.
I’m so desperate I’m writing you this absurd letter that I’ll probably never give you. I don’t know if I can give it to you. I’m scared to give it to you, and I’m scared not to.
I’m scared because sometimes I think everyone would be better off without me. I’m scared because it feels like no one would even notice if I was gone. It feels so easy. Everyday it feels like it would be easier.
I guess I’m asking for help, Ingrid. I don’t want to ask you to fix this for me, but I don’t think I can do it myself. I want to be better, I want to
Your writing cut off abruptly, as the front door opened. All you felt was panic. You were a mess, sobbing uncontrollably on the couch with the letter almost completed in front of you. They weren’t supposed to be home yet. The event was supposed to be a long one, and you’d planned on leaving the letter, if you were brave enough, on the kitchen table, and going to bed. Handing it to your sister face to face had never been the plan. You weren’t even sure it made any sense, and you weren’t sure you wanted to give it to her.
The front door swung open anyway, and Mapi walked into the house. You remembered, then, that she was always coming home early. She had a follow up appointment for her knee the following morning, and she hadn’t wanted to be out late. Alexia had driven her home early, not wanting a late night herself. Ingrid was still at the dinner, but Mapi was here. Standing frozen in the entryway, with a perfect view of the disaster you were on the couch. You were frozen, and she was frozen, but then she was moving, moving closer to you, and you couldn’t you couldn’t you couldn’t.
“Pequeña, what is it? What hurts?” Mapi asked urgently, moving to sit next to you on the couch. She thought you must be hurt, physically. The thought that the agony on your face could be from anything else didn't even enter her brain.
She sat next to you, and you were still frozen, not even able to move the piece of paper out of sight.
Mapi saw it. You were using one of your textbooks as a surface, not unlike how you did your homework. Your favorite pen was in your hand. And resting in your lap, on the textbook, was a piece of paper that somehow radiated pain. Mapi was reaching for it before she even knew what she was doing, and you were still frozen. Frozen, staring at Mapi like you were afraid of her. Very suddenly, Mapi was terrified.
“Nena, what is this?” She asked softly. It was to Ingrid. Written in Spanish. Mapi saw her name in it a few places as she scanned it over, before she looked back up at you. “Nena?” she prompted again.
This time, you did move. You jolted forward, reaching for the letter, a deep gasping breath escaping your mouth. Mapi held it out of your grasp, her eyes stuck on one sentence, the only sentence that she’d read so far. It had jumped out at her.
“I’m scared because sometimes I think everyone would be better off without me.”
An instantly, Mapi knew she couldn’t let you take the piece of paper back. She knew she needed to call Ingrid and tell her to come home. She knew she couldn’t let you out of her sight. You were so fragile, though, sitting in front of her like you were second away from shattering into a million pieces. Too many pieces for anyone to ever be able to fix.
“Nena, I think I need to read this.” She whispered, watching carefully as you pulled your hand back towards your body, as you curled in on yourself, and began to shake with silent sobs.
And then Mapi read the letter. With one hand on your back, and one hand tightly clutching the paper, she read the most painful thing she’d ever laid her eyes on. It tore her apart, reading how you felt.
And it wasn’t meant for her. It was meant for Ingrid. And, ridiculously, Mapi wished she could fix it before Ingrid ever read what you’d written. Mapi would have done anything in that moment, to make things right with you, and to make sure Ingrid never had to know how badly she had hurt you. Because realizing it would hurt the Norwegian just as much.
Mapi ached to tell you so many things. That Ingrid loved you so much, she just wasn’t sure how to help you. That she thought what she was doing was working, helping. That she was sure Ingrid didn’t know the date, or she’d have never forgotten your birthday. That she knew Ingrid would do anything, anything in the world, to fix this. That Mapi was sure both she and Ingrid would go back in time if they could, and fix everything that had gone wrong.
She couldn’t force that all on you now. She couldn’t defend Ingrid, or herself.
Instead, she placed the letter carefully on the table, and sent Ingrid a very brief text.
“You need to come home now. Everything is fine, everyone is safe, but you need to come home.”
Instead, Mapi pulled you into her lap, and held you so tight it almost hurt.
Instead, your sister’s girlfriend, who owed you absolutely nothing, told you, over and over, how very loved you were. How proud she was of you. How her and Ingrid were going to fix everything if it killed them.
They’d fix everything before it killed you.
------
🙂
#woso x reader#woso imagine#engen!reader#ingrid engen x mapí leon#ingrid engen x reader#mapi leon x reader#platonic reader
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She…what? Chapter One
Lando norris x reader (hints at Daniel ricciardo x reader
1.7k words | Series Masterlist
"Pardon?" Lando exasperated, looking towards his friend. They were sat in his hotel room, even now, no longer teammates, they made a point to go out together, or at least see each other every week. "I'm serious." Daniel replied, unsure as to why his friend reacted in such a way. "I'm not doubting you, I'm having issue comprehending what you've said." Lando spoke quietly, taking a sip of his drink. "She gives the best blow jobs." Daniel stated simply, looking at Lando's raised eyebrow. "Good for you man, but why are you telling me this?" He stood up quickly, to retrieve another drink, and hide his slightly red face. "Come on, I know you've not been laid for a while, plus I think you'd quite like her." Lando was at a loss for words, he walked back towards the bed as slow as possible, it wasn't strange for them to talk about their most recent hook up, but it was never like this. "I'm sorry, you're asking me to fuck some girl you're seeing?" Daniel's immediate response was to roll his eyes, not understanding Lando's struggle. "No, well I'm not seeing her per say. It's a little agreement of sorts."
"So she's a hooker?" Lando said, sounding slightly disappointed, not that he wouldn't be up for it, he was just expecting something different. "No, god no. She's a girl I've been sleeping with? yes. Do I pay for it? No. But it's not a relationship either. It's kind of hard to explain." Lando was sipping his drink throughout Daniel's small speech, he gained a small amount of clarity.
So here Lando was, currently hungover, after a night in a club post race, it was four in the afternoon and he was panicking slightly. Daniel had given him a room number and said that he'd understand everything when he was through the door, but it took a while for him to knock. Realistically, what was he supposed to say? His whole body was filled with a mix of emotions that made it hard to function, he was nervous, shy, and slightly embarrassed. He'd never spoken to anyone with in this context before, so to say he was struggling would be an understatement. The shuffling behind the door got louder and louder until he was met with a beautiful woman. "Hello?" Lando was stunned, she was truly enticing, especially when she spoke. "And who are you?" She said with a warm and sweet tone, a light smile adorning her face. "Lando." He struggled to get his words out, he could see why Daniel would not stop speaking about her. "You're Daniel's friend?" She turned away from him, walking further into the hotel room. It was only now Lando was able to see her fully; She adorned a silk robe, one that framed her so well. She poured him a glass of wine that he took, but chose not to drink. "Yes, I am."
"So, Lando, What did he tell you?" She emphasised his name, making eye contact with him, sipping her drink slowly. "To be honest not much." He looked almost bashful as the words left his mouth. "What would you like to know?" she practically whispered, moving closer, then placing her hand on his knee. She pursed her lips slightly as she began to run her hand further up his leg, making it harder for Lando to think. "What this really is, or what it will be." In all honesty, he didn't know how to act, or what to say. "Whatever you want, well, with in reason....Just not tonight." She jumped up rather quickly, swaying her hips as she walked to the other side of the room, pouring another drink. "Why?" Desperation laced his voice, eyes wide. "There is a lot of things we must sort first, and that will take quite some time." While her back was turned, Lando took this as an opportunity to look around the room. Claiming it was vast would be an understatement. Filled with the hotel's finest furniture with the lights set to a dim, sensual level would be the best way to describe it. But, this coupled with just the sight on her, was slowly turning Lando on. "What do we need to sort out?" His patience was wearing thin, but he was yearning for her already. She paused for a moment, but Lando was too focused on the mirror on the ceiling. "I have to learn about what you like, and you about my limits... You will also have to sign an NDA, no matter your decision." He was surprised with her proposition.
"NDA?" Lando needed her to elucidate, why would she need him to sign such a thing, and not just the other way around. "You are not the only one with things to lose." She stopped speaking again, and walked into another room, leaving Lando to his thoughts; He had no right to ask about her personal life at this moment in time, however, that didn't stop his curiosity. What did she have to lose? How did she get into this situation? All those questions would go unanswered for a long while. He began to hear her footsteps once again, this time there was a paper in her grasp. "I'll give you a while to read through it." Lando had never read something so fast in all of his life, and so, was quick to reach for a pen. He was feeling warm, but not as dizzy as before, he was certain in is sobriety. "So....Where do we start?" the driver had never asked so many questions in one day, but he just couldn't help it. He tried not to asked closed questions as he wanted o hear her seraphic voice. "Tell me about what you like, Lando, I promise I wont judge." She winked as she sat beside him again, keeping her body closer than before. He knew what she was asking but he just could not form a coherent response. His brain became foggy, but she waited for a while, trying to coerce him into relaxing slightly. "Let's start simple, do you have any kinks that you have? Or would like to try? It can only be a few for now." She tried not to overwhelm him, knowing this can be quite the stressful situation. With how personal this is, she knew that no matter how confident or extroverted the person was, it would still be very hard. His nerves were overt, so she began to run her hand over his arm and shoulder, waiting for a response. "Um...I like blindfolds...and...mirrors." He was hesitant, but as soon as he saw the smile on her face, his shoulders lowered slightly. "Well, isn't that convenient."
Lando pulled her closer, practically forcing her into his lap, not that she wasn't pleased with the gesture; happy with his confidence back, she let him speak. "Anything I need to know about you?" His hands slowly danced up her back, trailing along her vertebrae. "A few things, I don't have many hard NOs. But you'll get to find out about that at a later date. I will say, I use the traffic light system. I'm guessing you're familiar with it?" His hands travel back down, groping her ass. "Yeah...Woah, you are responsive." He could feel her shifting in his lap more frequently now. "So, hows this supposed to work?" Lando began to move his hips slightly meeting hers. "I call you, or you call me, and if I'm not busy, you will have my room number, and we go from there." Lando smiled ear to ear, squeezing her thighs slightly rough, testing the waters. "If you're not busy?" He said in jest. "Yes Lando, I'm in very high demand." She laughed lightly, grinding harder. "Oh, so I'm one of the lucky few?" Lando's lips met her neck rather quickly, he began kissing and sucking lightly. "Exactly....Knew I'd like you." He laughed into her skin, waiting for another statement, but it never came.
She pulled away from him, and he was once again dumbfounded. Lando licked his lips as his eyes raked over her body, he was so excited. But doesn't like to be teased. "Oh come on Sweetheart. Don't do this to me." He stood up, walking towards her, but she just backed away, walking towards the actual bedroom. "Oh Lando, I can't give you everything now, then nothing will be bring you back." She giggled, eyeing him up, she was excited to play with him. But it would be better if she made him wait. "Such a tease, I'll be punishing you for that." He threatened her with an opposing tone. Lando reached for his phone resting on the table as she spoke. "I look forward to it." She said in a sultry tone, backing away from his view. Lando walked towards the hotel door, feeling his phone buzz in his hand.
"Considering how long you've been, I'd say you liked her" -Daniel
Lando chuckled, choosing to leave his friend on read, the walk to his hotel room was short, it was only now that he noticed how close her and Daniel's rooms were. Lando continued to ponder until he was met with the number 303. He knocked lightly, knowing his friend was waiting. "So... What happened?" Daniel said, ushering him into the hotel room. Lando was hesitant to say, he was unaware of what happened with them, and didn't want to either say something he's not supposed to, or upset Daniel in anyway. It was a sensitive topic, and although he signed the non-disclosure agreement stating that he could discuss this with Daniel, it all felt a little strange. "We discussed a few things, and she had me sign an NDA. But other than that, not much." Daniel smirked, looking back towards Lando, offering him another drink. "That's good, you were gone for quite some time, so I'm guessing you liked her." Lando nodded, looking away for a brief moment, "Yeah, we uh...made out a little bit." He didn't know how to feel, so many emotions were running through his body, it was making it hard to focus, his hands were shaking slightly, and his eyes unfocused. Lando felt almost intoxicated with her. "Just wait until you're in her mouth."
Chapter Two
#f1 x reader#f1 smut#f1 x reader smut#f1 fanfic#f1 imagine#f1 fic#lando norris x reader#lando norris smut#lando norris imagine#lando norris#lando x reader#daniel riccardo imagine#daniel ricciardo
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